To Our Mutual Benefit
by Cheshire Pandacat
Summary: After spontaneously confessing to Tsuna and being rejected (however gently), Gokudera comes home to find Mukuro bleeding all over his floor. 6959, romance, smut.
1. The First Day

A/Ns: You ever just wake up one morning and all of a sudden it hits you, "omfg I think I ship it a little bit"?

Warnings: Smutty.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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To Our Mutual Benefit

Chapter 1

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Gokudera hurried home, face burning, not seeing anything around him. He grit his teeth and tried to pretend that there weren't tears of pain, embarrassment, and shame pricking at his eyes.

How could he be so stupid? What had made him confess to Tsuna? Just remembering the startled discomfort in Tsuna's eyes, his stuttering attempt to turn him down without hurting his feelings, his hasty assurances that he didn't care if Gokudera liked guys and he still considered him one of his best friends, but…

Gokudera all but kicked the door of his apartment in and slammed it behind him before furiously punching the wall. What was _wrong _with him?

"Oya? What did that wall do to incite your temper, Gokudera Hayato?"

Gokudera stiffened and whirled around, eyes blazing, and he bared his teeth to snarl at the unwanted intruder.

"What the fuck are you doing here, you bastard?" he snapped, and then paused when he realized what he was seeing.

Mukuro Rokudo was sitting in the one chair at Gokudera's table, one arm slung over the back of it while the other curled around his stomach, covering red-soaked tears in his shirt. His legs were sprawled out, the knee of one and the ankle of the other dark and wet. Blood dripped down the side of his face, and though that infuriating ever-present smile was still in place, Mukuro's eyes were dim and tired.

"What the hell happened to you?" Gokudera asked incredulously, mouth twisting with distaste. Tsuna may have forgiven Mukuro for what he'd done to them when they'd first met, but Gokudera never had. He hadn't forgotten what the bastard had done to Fuuta, and Lancia, and how he'd possessed Bianchi and even Gokudera himself.

Gokudera _hated _Mukuro, so he was less than pleased to find the guy bleeding all over his apartment.

"Hibari Kyouya wanted to settle things between us," Mukuro replied. Smile tightening, he added, "I won."

"He looks worse than you do, then?" Gokudera asked, skeptical.

"He's the one in the hospital," Mukuro said coolly.

"That doesn't mean anything," Gokudera scoffed. "You look like you should be in a hospital, too. So what are you doing _here?_"

"I can't afford to be stuck in a hospital at the moment," Mukuro said. "And Chrome and the others aren't around at the moment. Of the people in Namimori I am familiar with, you seemed like my best option."

"How so?" Gokudera demanded, gritting his teeth. It _really _rubbed him the wrong way that Mukuro felt entitled to just drop in here like this, and being seen as a "best option" pissed him off even more.

Mukuro gave him a contemplative look, clearly wondering whether or not to answer, while also giving off an air of condescending amusement, mocking Gokudera for not being able to figure it out for himself.

Gokudera glared back. He had already thought of several reasons why Mukuro might come here, but he wanted to hear Mukuro admit to it himself.

At last Mukuro let out a soft sigh, and said dryly, "You live alone, you're almost certainly well-stocked with medical items, you're rational enough to provide aid to someone whom your boss considers an ally even if you personally dislike them, and in the case of you or anyone else choosing to attack me, I can always possess you."

"Fuck you," Gokudera hissed, and then stomped away to get his first aid kit.

Once he had it, he plunked it on the table in front of Mukuro – a little more forcefully than he really should have – and said sharply, "This is just so you stop bleeding all over my apartment. Clean up and get out."

Mukuro raised an eyebrow. His eyes ticked to the first aid kit and then down to his extensive wounds before resting expectantly on Gokudera.

Gokudera snarled again, but much as he disliked it, he got the point. Mukuro was too injured to be able to treat all his wounds himself, and given his leg injuries, he wouldn't be able to go anywhere without at least a few days to heal. From the look of him, Gokudera was grudgingly impressed that Mukuro had been able to drag himself here at all.

"You've got to be kidding me," Gokudera grumbled, and continued to curse under his breath, but he helped Mukuro out of his shirt and began treating his wounds.

The head injury wasn't as bad as the bleeding implied, but the gashes in his side and stomach were worse than they looked, doubly so because they were surrounded by ugly bruising, and gauging by Mukuro's expression and restrained flinches, he had cracked or broken ribs on both sides.

Gokudera ended up having to cut Mukuro's pants off at the knees to get at his leg injuries. The left knee wasn't too bad, but Gokudera pursed his lips as he examined Mukuro's right ankle. That injury alone should have had him in a hospital. Mukuro had only made it worse by dragging himself to Gokudera's apartment, too.

He cleaned and bandaged it as best as he could, ignoring Mukuro's hisses and increasingly harsh breathing, and put it in a brace for good measure.

"Come on," Gokudera said sullenly when he was done, reluctantly giving Mukuro a hand up, pulling his arm across his shoulders, and taking most of his weight. "You need to lie down."

"Mm," Mukuro agreed neutrally, eyelids at half-mast as they limped into the bedroom. His exhaustion was catching up with him, and he was half asleep already when Gokudera lowered him onto the futon.

Gokudera left him there and spent the rest of the evening cleaning up the bloodstains on his chair and floor. He had instant ramen for dinner, did his homework, and then stumbled towards bed, physically and emotionally drained from the day.

Then he froze as he stood over the futon. He only had the one, of course. And he was not sleeping on the floor for goddamn _Mukuro._ But in that case…

For a long minute, Gokudera just stared down at the unconscious Mist guardian. Asleep, chest rising and falling peacefully, face relaxed, expression wiped clean of smug amusement and condescension, Gokudera registered for the first time that Mukuro was damn attractive. Beautiful, even.

"_It – it's not like I mind that, that, um, that you're… like that, Gokudera-kun. I don't! You're one of my best friends, and you always will be. I just… I mean, I'm not…"_

Gokudera went beet red, and he clenched his fists. With so much else to keep him busy, he'd been able to push that mortifying conversation to the back of his mind.

He usually slept in his boxers, but he dropped onto the futon fully clothed, nudging Mukuro over until he had half the space to himself. There wasn't enough room to sleep on his back, though. Gokudera suffered a moment of inner debate as to whether to lie facing _towards _Mukuro – having to stare at him and be constantly reminded how uncomfortably close they were – or facing _away _from Mukuro – thus leaving his back open.

Deciding that Mukuro was too injured and out of it to try anything, and facing away from Gokudera anyway, Gokudera took the lesser of two evils and faced the wall.

Uncomfortable as sleeping in his clothes was, Gokudera was still on the verge of dropping off when Mukuro murmured sleepily, rolled over, and curled an arm around Gokudera's waist, burying his face in his hair.

Gokudera froze.

Then, as if the day hadn't been horrible enough already, Gokudera's body decided to respond to Mukuro's breaths tickling the back of his neck and the hand resting distressingly close to his crotch.

It was too much. It was all just too much. Gokudera's breath hitched in the beginning of a frustrated sob, tears stinging his eyes once more.

"Gokudera Hayato?" Mukuro said quietly.

Gokudera closed his eyes, jaw clenched tight. Perfect. Just perfect. "What."

Mukuro shifted his hand to trace a finger over the bulge in Gokudera's pants, sending a quick burst of desire coursing through him. Gokudera went rigid.

"Shall I comfort you?"

If there had been the barest hint of amusement, or condescension, or smugness, or _anything _in Mukuro's tone, Gokudera would have kicked his ass and kicked him out.

But Mukuro's tone was neutral without being cold or distant, an offer stripped bare of anything to react to, bereft of strings, where either possible answer was equally natural and acceptable.

Gokudera's voice broke when he whispered, "Yeah."

Mukuro didn't react to the break, much to Gokudera's intense relief; he just undid the button of Gokudera's jeans and pulled down the zipper. Determined to maintain at least some of his dignity, Gokudera shoved his pants and boxers down himself as Mukuro tugged off his shirt.

Then the tips of Mukuro's fingers brushed lightly against the underside of Gokudera's cock, making him shudder.

For a few minutes Mukuro just trailed his fingertips up and down Gokudera's length, ignoring Gokudera's attempts to repress his gasps of pleasure. With each pass the hot, desperate need pitched higher, until finally Gokudera couldn't hold back a soft whimper.

At the sound, Mukuro's hand closed loosely around him, and his thumb began to rhythmically stroke the head of Gokudera's erection.

Gokudera let out a low, frustrated whine, and bucked his hips once, plaintively, wanting that friction for his whole cock, not just the head.

"Shh," Mukuro murmured in his ear, soothingly. "Just relax, Gokudera Hayato."

Much to his indignant confusion, tears pricked at Gokudera's eyes again, for some reason prompted by the soft tone and attempt at reassurance. Tears of shame and frustration at being offered and accepting comfort from _Mukuro _of all people, and of yearning, because his need to be comforted was stronger than the embarrassment.

His breath hitched.

"Shh," Mukuro said again, dipping his head to brush his lips against Gokudera's cheek. "What on earth happened to you today to have you in such a state, I wonder. You're certainly not upset on my account."

"I…" Gokudera's voice trembled, much to his irritation. He let out a shaky breath and was able to mumble more evenly, "I… told the Tenth how I… how I feel."

"Ah," Mukuro said, and that was all, much to Gokudera's relief. He moved to kiss Gokudera's cheek again. Before he'd made the conscious decision to do so, Gokudera turned towards him just enough for that gentle contact to ghost against his lips.

Then he found himself staring into Mukuro's smoky eyes, and his heart rate accelerated, thudding painfully in his chest.

Gokudera swallowed, and in a moment of daring, turned so that he lay on his back, cupping one hand behind Mukuro's head to pull him closer and kiss him fully. Heat and excitement and pleasure flared through him when Mukuro not only accepted the kiss, but opened his lips and submitted to it.

The thrill of experiencing an act of submission from _Mukuro _coincided perfectly with the moment Mukuro's hand finally began to pump him, and Gokudera let out a breathy moan.

Mukuro took advantage of that to seize control of the kiss and deepen it further. Gokudera's fingers curled in Mukuro's hair. He tilted his head up into the kiss, only belatedly realizing that he himself was submitting to Mukuro by offering his throat and belly – that he was completely exposed and vulnerable to whatever Mukuro wanted to do to him, completely in Mukuro's power.

In all possible senses – Gokudera's eyes went wide as he felt the subtle sensation of Mukuro's mind brushing against his, casually reminding him that Mukuro could seize control of him at any time if he wanted to.

Gokudera panted raggedly as Mukuro pulled back from the kiss and smiled at him, then affectionately nuzzled his temple.

"If Sawada Tsunayoshi doesn't want you," Mukuro purred, "may I have you?"

"I'm the Tenth's right-hand man, even if he's not… interested in me… _that _way," Gokudera rasped sharply, not sure why Mukuro wanting him had his stomach twisting with giddy nerves.

Even if it was Mukuro, it was nice to feel wanted.

"That's not what I meant," Mukuro replied, amused, hand pumping faster.

Gokudera cried out, back arching as he came. He fell back against the futon, breathing heavily, drenched in sweat. Mukuro idly wiped his hand on Gokudera's discarded boxers, then used Gokudera's shirt to gently mop the sweat and semen from the silver-haired boy as Gokudera struggled to get his breathing under control.

Mukuro finally tossed the shirt aside, then propped himself up on his elbow, and brushed Gokudera's hair out of his face. Gokudera could only stare up at him, eyes glazed. He didn't know why – didn't _want _to know why – but Mukuro's touch felt good.

Mukuro's eyes drank him in, a fond smile on his face. "Let me have you, Gokudera Hayato."

"No way," Gokudera said flatly. Just because Mukuro _could _possess him, didn't mean he'd be able to _keep _possessing him, not if Gokudera fought. And especially not if the Tenth or any of the others found out. Gokudera would rather die than surrender to Mukuro that way.

He wouldn't let the illusionist control him. Not again. _Never _again.

Mukuro chuckled. "You're still misunderstanding me," he drawled. "I'm saying let's go on a date, Gokudera Hayato."

Gokudera's jaw dropped, and then his eyes blazed with temper, teeth bared. "Don't fuck with me!" he snapped. "I don't have any feelings for you – I don't even _like _you – and you sure as hell don't feel anything for me."

"So?" Still smiling, Mukuro pushed himself up onto his knees, straddled Gokudera's hips, and put his hands on either side of Gokudera's head. There was a tightness around his eyes from the pain the movement caused, but otherwise his expression was calculating. "You're feeling emotionally vulnerable and upset because Sawada Tsunayoshi rejected you, and you're clearly in need of reassurance. I need to stay here for a while to recover. Why not take advantage of each other? I'm using you, so I'm saying you can feel free to use me too, Gokudera Hayato."

Use him? So what Mukuro had been trying to do with that "let me have you" and "date" shit was… reassure Gokudera that he was desirable?

Gokudera stared at Mukuro. "_Why?_" It wasn't like Mukuro to offer such a thing.

Was it? Come to think of it, Ken and Chikusa, M.M. and Fran, Chrome, they all got something they wanted out of being used by Mukuro.

If Gokudera was going to have to deal with having Mukuro at his place and taking care of him while his injuries healed, why _shouldn't _he get something out of it? Being jacked off by Mukuro… being _kissed _by Mukuro… had felt good. Even now, as Mukuro continued to stroke his hair, Gokudera let him, because it felt good.

Being wanted felt good.

Cheeks red, Gokudera turned his head to the side, away from Mukuro's hand. "Keh. Fine, whatever." Glancing back up at the Mist guardian without turning his head, Gokudera went on acidly, "And don't think you can weasel out of your end of the bargain."

Mukuro smiled. "Kufufufu. Of course not." He bent down and kissed Gokudera's temple, then pulled away and lay back down, facing away from Gokudera. "Good night, Gokudera Hayato."

Gokudera just grunted, rolling over so his back was to Mukuro.

Brow furrowed, flushed, a scowl on his face, it took Gokudera a long time to fall asleep.

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End A/Ns: Yeah I think I'm actually going to continue with this. o_O No promises it'll be a long fic or anything, but I really like their dynamic for some reason? LOL. 8D;;

(Chapter revised 7/9/13)

Revision A/Ns: omfg, in hindsight that end A/N is hilarious. I ended up churning out over 30,000 words in two weeks for this fic. That's the most prolific I have EVER been.


	2. The Second Day, Part 1

A/Ns: This consumed my whole day and I got nothing else done sob I need this plot bunny to stop riding me so hard omfg.

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To Our Mutual Benefit

Chapter 2

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When Mukuro woke up the next morning, Gokudera had already left for school.

His torso and right ankle throbbed painfully, and he grimaced as he sat up. It had been truly unfortunate for Dino to show up as Mukuro stood over Hibari, prepared to deal the final blow – not to kill, as the Cloud guardian was still more useful alive, but to at least knock him out.

Bruised and bleeding and battered, barely triumphant, Mukuro hadn't heard the attack coming, hadn't realized Dino was there at all until the whip curled around his ankle and sent him flying into oncoming traffic.

"_Sorry! I am so sorry, Mukuro, hang on!" _the boss of the Cavallone Family had had the gall to say, looking chagrined and horrified as he hauled Mukuro to safety. _"When I saw you standing over Kyouya like that, I guess I got carried away. I'll get you both to the hospital – "_

"_Don't touch me," _Mukuro had snarled back, wrenching away. _"I don't need your help."_

"_But – "_

Dino had pressed his lips together when Mukuro had leveled his trident at him, then sighed heavily and walked away, his subordinates helping him transfer Hibari to his car.

"_I'll call an ambulance then," _he'd said over his shoulder, pulling out his cell phone.

"_Don't bother," _Mukuro had snapped, and limped away with as much dignity as he could muster, pretending his body wasn't screaming at him with every step.

The timing was unfortunate, too. He'd assigned various overseas tasks to Chrome and the rest of the Kokuyo gang yesterday, setting the stage to begin his destruction of the mafia world. But he'd told them he still had business in Namimori and would communicate with them, but not join them for a while – he'd wanted to settle things with Hibari once and for all, and hadn't been foolish enough to assume he'd be able to do so without injury.

So his entire support base was gone, and he was stuck relying on one of Tsuna's guardians.

Finding Gokudera in an emotionally unstable state had been the one stroke of luck fate had deigned to deal him. So instead of being indebted to Gokudera, Mukuro was on equal terms with him, each of them getting something from the other. Mukuro would act as a temporary "rebound" source of solace for Gokudera after being rejected by Tsuna, and Gokudera would house Mukuro and help treat his injuries.

The sense of indignity the set-up sparked in Mukuro was worth it for the chance of Gokudera potentially becoming emotionally dependent on him.

With some effort, Mukuro was finally able to pull himself to his feet, and he limped to the bathroom. Given the gashes in his side and stomach, he wasn't able even to bathe, let alone shower, but he could at least wipe himself down with warm water. His wounds screamed and even after all his effort he didn't feel clean enough, but it was a start.

Afterwards, he grit his teeth through wrapping new bandages around his open wounds, and though he was panting hoarsely by the end of it, he managed to get his ankle wrapped up as well, if clumsily so. The brace would help make up for that, but he couldn't put that back on until he was dressed.

Which presented another problem, as Mukuro only had the one set of clothes with him, and blood-soaked and torn as the garments were, he couldn't very well put them back on. He supposed he could wear Gokudera's clothes – he and Gokudera had relatively similar builds, but Mukuro stood a head taller than the Storm guardian.

He put some of Gokudera's clothes on anyway, altering one of the shirts so it looked like it was supposed to expose his stomach, and choosing a pair of shorts, which fit him just fine, even if the combination didn't live up to Mukuro's standards of fashion.

At least Gokudera had _some_ sense of style, which was more than Mukuro could say for Tsuna or any of his other guardians.

Once he was dressed, Mukuro collapsed in the apartment's one chair, trying to catch his breath. He was pushing himself too hard, and he knew it. Even the smallest movement, the shallowest breath sent pain stabbing through him because of his broken ribs. And he shouldn't be on his feet at all; even if he didn't put any weight on his right foot, just holding it up off the floor was putting too much stress on the muscles.

But he'd needed to get clean, and now his stomach was reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast yesterday.

Groaning, Mukuro hoisted himself upright, and went to plunder Gokudera's fridge and pantry.

Not that there was much worth plundering. From the look of things, Gokudera was living mostly off of instant ramen and melon bread, and what little else he did have were items that didn't require much, if any cooking.

The Kokuyo gang's set-up wasn't really any different, but they at least acquired junk food that tasted good. Like sweets. Why did Gokudera not have any sweets? Mukuro could cheerfully kill for chocolate right now.

Oh well. He sighed, and helped himself to a cup of instant ramen.

After he ate, Mukuro found that he was completely exhausted, to the point that he didn't even want to go to the effort of standing and going back to the bedroom. So instead he just folded his arms on the table, rested his head on them, and dozed off.

He was woken by Gokudera shaking his shoulder roughly. He'd slept for a few hours, then.

"Welcome home," Mukuro said with a tight smile. Gokudera scowled at him.

"Why are you wearing my clothes?" he demanded.

Mukuro quirked an eyebrow. "Because I don't have anything else to wear."

"You mangled that shirt," Gokudera snapped.

"It probably looks better on me anyway," Mukuro replied, smile gaining bite. He then watched with interest as Gokudera clamped his jaw shut, gave him a blisteringly dark look, and stomped away. He threw his school bag down on the floor and began to rummage through his cupboards, all but radiating tension and irritation.

"Bad day?" Mukuro asked silkily.

"Not really," Gokudera grumbled, keeping his back turned.

"Then what are you feeling surly about?"

"None of your business," Gokudera said shortly.

Mukuro ignored that and went on, "Were things awkward between you and Sawada Tsunayoshi?"

Gokudera whirled around and slammed his hands down on the table, eyes blazing.

Mukuro didn't change his expression. He just tilted his head back and up, invitingly. Reminding Gokudera that he was free to seek solace, if he so chose.

After a moment of perplexion Gokudera's eyes widened in realization, and he went beet red. Mukuro mentally counted down the three seconds it took for Gokudera's mouth to set and eyes to glimmer with resolve, and then Gokudera strode over, fisted a hand in Mukuro's hair and kissed him.

For someone who was so obviously inexperienced, Gokudera was a decent kisser, Mukuro thought. He opened his mouth and submitted to the kiss, remembering how much Gokudera had appreciated that last night.

Sure enough, Gokudera let out a low rumble of pleasure. He bent down closer, bringing his other hand up to hold Mukuro's head steady as he deepened the kiss further.

For his part, Mukuro set his hands on Gokudera's hips and otherwise let him do what he wanted, using tiny, minute movements of lips and tongue to guide him.

After a few minutes, Gokudera pulled back, panting, and Mukuro didn't bother concealing that he was a bit breathless, too.

Hands still framing Mukuro's face, Gokudera stared down at him, brow furrowed, a thoughtful frown beneath flushed cheeks.

"Why are you just going along with this?" Gokudera asked.

"That was our deal, wasn't it?" Mukuro replied, eyebrows lifting.

Gokudera's frown deepened. "I guess I just have a hard time believing that you're fine with kissing me and… whatever else we do while you're here, without getting anything else out of it. Are you even attracted to guys?"

Mukuro shrugged. "Gender isn't a factor for me."

Honestly, he wouldn't say that he was "attracted" to anyone. If there were benefits to reap that would make intimacy worth the while, fine. If others found him physically appealing and he could use that to manipulate them, even better. And he could appreciate seeing to his body's baser physiological needs from time to time. "Attraction" wasn't a word that meant anything to him, and gender wasn't remotely a factor on those rare occasions he decided to allow intimacy.

But he had no intention of explaining that to Gokudera. The Storm guardian was smarter than he often seemed; the less he understood about the way Mukuro's mind worked, the better.

Since Gokudera was just continuing to frown at him thoughtfully, Mukuro decided a change in topic would be to his advantage.

"So, did you tell Sawada Tsunayoshi or the others that I was staying here?" he asked, mildly curious, twitching his head back. Gokudera grimaced a little as he took the hint to let go and backed off, then scratched the back of his head.

"No," he admitted. "I knew that if I did, the Tenth would get worried about you and Hibari both, and he doesn't need that on his mind right now."

"How generous of you," Mukuro said with a bright smile. "Sawada Tsunayoshi is truly fortunate to have you at his right hand to look after him."

"Don't make fun of me, you bastard!" Gokudera snapped, but in the tone he used when lashing out at Yamamoto or Ryohei, not the more harshly aggressive one he'd used with Mukuro until now.

To be honest, Mukuro _had _been baiting him, and quite blatantly, too, which was also not quite the same tone _he _usually chose to take with any of Tsuna's guardians. Interesting. He'd have to analyze both of their abnormal behaviors more closely later.

"Well, in any case," Mukuro said, placing his hands on the table to help support him as he pushed himself to his feet, "If I'm going to be staying here for a few days, I'll require a more extensive wardrobe. Let's go shopping. We can make a date of it, if you like," he added, smiling. He had long since learned how to ignore it when his body was in pain, and these injuries were quickly becoming familiar enough to endure.

Gokudera scowled at him. "_You're _not going anywhere," he said sourly. "You're not in any condition to be walking around town. And I am _not _going on any dates with you," he added, glaring fiercely.

"Kufufufu, if you say so," Mukuro said. "But I do need clothes, and you don't exactly seem to have an excess of funds."

"Neither do you," Gokudera replied, bristling.

"On the contrary," Mukuro said, smirking. With a flick of his fingers, he was suddenly holding a stack of yen bills.

"You can't use real illusions to buy clothing," Gokudera told him. "That's stea – "

Mukuro raised an eyebrow at him, and Gokudera seemed to remember just who it was he was talking to.

"You were raised in the mafia world, too," Mukuro pointed out coolly. "So don't try to tell me _you've _never committed any crimes."

"Not since I met the Tenth," Gokudera replied. His expression became hooded and distant and wistful. "I've become a better person since meeting him. Because of him."

"Good for you," Mukuro said dryly, not quite able to fully repress the sneer.

Gokudera stared at him levelly. "And so have you."

Mukuro chuckled disdainfully. "If you say so," he said, condescension dripping from his tone.

Mukuro couldn't deny that meeting Tsuna had changed him, if not so fundamentally as Gokudera seemed to think, but he'd only acknowledged that in a personal, private analysis of his goals and priorities and the means he was willing to utilize. He took pride in the reputation he'd cultivated for himself, and he preferred having as much control as possible over how others perceived him. He couldn't just have others going around thinking that Tsuna had "changed him for the better."

What utter, romanticized, ridiculous nonsense.

"Don't you have anything stored at Kokuyo Land?" Gokudera asked impatiently. "I can take a trip out there to bring you some things."

Mukuro kept his expression neutral, but inwardly he frowned. He didn't want Gokudera pawing through his things in Kokuyo Land, particularly not if he himself wasn't there to supervise and make certain nothing was found or touched that shouldn't be.

But he really wasn't up to going shopping, he admitted to himself. He had no other options.

"Alright, then," Mukuro replied, smiling. "Let me make you a list."

* * *

End A/Ns: Aaaaand the plot has begun in earnest WOO~

But of course I will do my best to maintain a healthy level of smut. ~_^

Also do not expect me to maintain this kind of update pace, I have to actually get shit done this week. xD

(Chapter revised 7/9/13)

Revision A/Ns: I maintained the damn update pace, much to my chagrin. Mourn for the shit that had to get done, which did get done, but was less than half-assed, alas.


	3. The Second Day, Part 2

A/Ns: I'm really grateful to everyone reading this fic, but an extra heaping of thanks to those of you who review, +favorite, and +alert it, you're making me so happy you don't even know~

Also yesterday I realized that the acronym for this fic would be T.O.M.B. OOPS THAT WAS TOTALLY UNINTENTIONAL LOOOOL

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To Our Mutual Benefit

Chapter 3

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When Gokudera had woken up that morning, he'd found himself lying on his back, Mukuro half-sprawled on top of him with one arm wrapped around Gokudera's chest, their legs tangled together. Mukuro's forehead had been pressed against his temple, and he'd tried to nuzzle in closer when Gokudera began to extract himself.

Never would have pegged Mukuro for a sleep-cuddler, Gokudera thought grouchily as he went through his morning routine. The most aggravating part about the whole thing was that it was entirely unintentional; Mukuro had been deeply asleep, and hadn't stirred towards consciousness once.

As he was getting ready to leave, it had occurred to Gokudera that, no, Mukuro wasn't a sleep-cuddler, he was just being the same possessive ass he'd always been. Even while asleep, he wanted everything to belong to him.

Sending one last scathing look at the insensate Mist guardian, Gokudera left for school.

Once out the door, Mukuro had been pushed to the back of his mind and stayed there.

Instead, he found himself trying to awkwardly act as if everything was normal between himself and Tsuna, and Tsuna awkwardly trying to do the same. They stumbled over conversations that went nowhere, and Gokudera found himself blowing up at anyone who so much as gave either of them an exasperated look.

"Hey, is everything alright with you and Tsuna?" Yamamoto had asked him at lunch, a hint of worry in his ever-present easy smile. Gokudera had flushed, mortified and furious that he was so out of sorts even the usually-oblivious Rain guardian had noticed.

"I'm fine! We're fine! Mind your own business, baseball freak!" Gokudera had snapped back, and stomped away.

And after a long, uncomfortable, tense day, he'd come home to find Mukuro asleep at the table, looking like complete and utter shit. His complexion had been pale and sickly, his eyes slightly glazed, and when Gokudera had touched him, his skin had felt feverish and clammy.

"_Let's go shopping _my ass," Gokudera grumbled under his breath as he dug through Mukuro's stash of clothes in Kokuyo Land. Bare seconds after he'd gotten Mukuro to lie back down on the futon, Mukuro had been out like a light. In no way, shape, or form had the bastard been up to fucking _shopping._ He hadn't even been up to _walking, _for crying out loud!

Gokudera stuffed several outfits into the duffle bag he'd brought along with him, and grabbed some of the personal hygiene items lying around for good measure. Spotting a couple Italian fashion magazines, he took those too, as much for himself as much as for Mukuro.

As he made his way back through Kokuyo Land, someone said in a startled tone of voice, "Gokudera-kun?"

Gokudera tensed and looked over at Tsuna, who was giving him an odd look and carrying a large, square bundle wrapped up in green cloth.

"Tenth! What are you doing here?" Gokudera asked.

"Dino-san stopped by and told me Mukuro and Hibari-san had been in a fight, and that's why Hibari-san wasn't at school today. He said Mukuro had been hurt badly, too, but had refused to go to the hospital, so… I was bringing him some food, and I wanted to see how he was doing."

Gokudera gave a bittersweet smile. That was just like Tsuna, always thinking of what he could do to help his friends. And counting people like Mukuro as friends in the first place. That kindness was one of the many things Gokudera really… really loved about him.

"What about you?" Tsuna asked tentatively. "What are you doing here, Gokudera-kun? I didn't think you and Mukuro got along…"

"We don't," Gokudera said sharply, then regretted it when Tsuna winced.

He scratched the back of his head. He didn't want anyone to know that Mukuro was staying with him, but…

No. He wouldn't lie to Tsuna. Not ever.

"Mukuro's staying at my place," Gokudera admitted grudgingly, stuffing his free hand in his pocket and scuffing his foot. "He was too injured to make it all the way out here by himself, and none of his flunkies are around, either, so I guess he decided I was his…" Gokudera grimaced, still annoyed. "His best option. Since, uh, I live alone and stuff. I was just grabbing some things for him. Don't get me wrong, I still hate his guts," he added quickly, not wanting to give Tsuna the wrong idea. "But he was there when I got home yesterday, and given how badly he was hurt, I knew that… you'd be mad at me if I kicked him out."

He hunched his shoulders and looked away, unable to bear seeing Tsuna looking at him with such warmth and gratitude and delight. Even as part of him wanted to swell up with pride at making Tsuna happy, the rest of him still hadn't gotten over the shame and embarrassment of his confession, and the pain of being rejected.

"That's really nice of you, Gokudera-kun. Thank you," Tsuna said, and Gokudera glanced over just in time to see the smile drop away into uncertainty. "Um… I guess I should give this to you, then… or I could walk back with you? If… if you want me to. I mean…"

"No, that's fine," Gokudera said quickly. They'd spent enough time being awkward around one another today already. "Thanks, Tenth. I'll give him a scolding for making you worry," he added firmly as he took the package.

"There's no need for that, really," Tsuna replied, waving his hands as if to dispel the idea and looking slightly alarmed. Then he hesitated, and slowly dropped his hands to his sides again. "You said he's hurt badly, but, uh… he'll be fine, right?"

"Yeah, he should be fine," Gokudera said, forcing a smile. "That bastard's way too stubborn to stay down for long."

"Yeah, I guess so, huh." Tsuna gave him one last, tentative smile, and then said, "I'll see you tomorrow, Gokudera-kun."

"See you tomorrow, Tenth," Gokudera called after him as Tsuna waved goodbye and turned to go.

Gokudera watched him until he was out of sight, then began the long walk home.

It was dark by the time he got back. He put the bundle of food from Tsuna on the table, and walked into the bedroom to check on Mukuro.

The older boy was awake, lying on his left side on the futon, head propped up in one hand while the other flipped through one of Gokudera's textbooks for school, for some reason Gokudera couldn't comprehend. He glanced up when Gokudera dropped the duffle bag next to his head.

"Welcome back," Mukuro said, his usual smile in place but otherwise not looking much better than he had before. "I trust you managed to find everything?"

"Yeah," Gokudera replied. "And I bumped into the Tenth. He heard you were hurt from Dino-san and was bringing you food. You'd better be grateful to him!" he added, glaring.

"I'll convey my thanks to him at some point," Mukuro said, amused. "I assume you brought the food with you, then?" When Gokudera nodded, Mukuro sat up. "Excellent. I'm hungry."

Gokudera rolled his eyes, but helped Mukuro up and into the kitchen. Since Mukuro by necessity had to use the chair, Gokudera had to stand. He unwrapped the food – a tray of twelve riceballs on top of three bento boxes with dividers down the middle. Enough for half a bento box and two riceballs for each member of the Kokuyo gang, Gokudera realized.

Tsuna really was the nicest person he knew.

With nowhere else to put his eyes, Gokudera watched Mukuro as they ate. The Mist guardian was a dainty, finicky eater, likely as much to keep up dignified appearances as to avoid getting messy. The few times Chrome had joined them at the table when they'd been stuck in the future, her eating habits had been exactly the same. Gokudera wondered if that was direct influence, and if so, which of them had picked it up from the other, or if it was just something they had in common.

All of a sudden it struck Gokudera that he'd never done anything so… _mundane _with Mukuro before. Not that he'd ever _wanted _to, either.

Tsuna probably would, though. And since Mukuro had never hung out with them for fun before, Gokudera could just picture Tsuna's face lighting up, eyes practically sparkling, if Mukuro ever showed up to, say, watch fireworks or play video games instead of only appearing to pick fights and be an antagonistic asshole.

Gokudera resolved to try and drag Mukuro to Tsuna's house to hang out at least once while he was here. Not that that would be much fun for Gokudera, but he knew Tsuna would be over the moon happy about it, and that was all the motivation he needed. And who knew, maybe acting like a normal teenager for once would be good for Mukuro, too.

"No," Mukuro said idly, and Gokudera frowned at him.

"No, what?"

"Whatever it is that's making you look at me like that," Mukuro clarified. "The answer is no."

"Looking at you like what?" Gokudera demanded, bristling.

Mukuro gave him a flat look above a tight smile. "Like you're about to do something reckless and stupid for Sawada Tsunayoshi."

Gokudera's mouth twisted. "It's not reckless or stupid," he grumbled under his breath.

"Mmhm."

Gokudera's eyes flashed. "Don't you patronize me, you bastard! And it's _not._ I was just thinking – "

When he paused, Mukuro quirked an eyebrow at him.

Gokudera grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. Shit. He knew exactly how inane this would sound to Mukuro. But if he _didn't _explain, he would look like a floundering idiot.

Ugh. Trust Mukuro to back him into an annoying conversational corner with virtually no effort.

Dick.

"I was just thinking it'd make Tsuna happy if I could get you to hang out with us some time," he admitted at last, scowling.

Mukuro burst out laughing. "I didn't know you were capable of being cute, Gokudera Hayato," he said cheerfully.

"Well, I know _you're _not," Gokudera snarled in return, and fumed at not being able to come up with a better retort.

Mukuro stopped chuckling, and gave him a sinister smile. "That's right. I'm not. After all the things I've seen and done in this rotten world, I've lost any ability to be _cute. _If I were ever capable of such a thing in the first place."

The anger drained out of Gokudera, even as he scrabbled to keep it. Oh, no. He couldn't sympathize with this guy. He wouldn't give in to Mukuro's damn magnetic charisma. Not when Tsuna had already lost to it. Sympathizing with Mukuro was fucking _dangerous._

Much to his inner pride, Gokudera fought down the empathetic response and replaced it with a look of disdain. "That's nothing to be proud of, or brag about. That's just _sad._"

Mukuro's smile turned rueful, and he looked away. "I suppose it is, isn't it?"

Gokudera almost choked as the sympathy threatened again. He grit his teeth and forced it down again.

"Yeah, poor Mukuro, his sad tortured backstory turned him into a homicidal maniac, let's all pity the mass murdering psychopath," Gokudera said, voice dripping with sarcasm. He would _not _be fucking manipulated by this guy.

The look Mukuro gave him was genuinely startled, and his smile surprisingly genuine. "Oya? Could it be Sawada Tsunayoshi managed to find a right-hand man who has a drop of common sense?"

Gokudera flushed, annoyed at himself for being happy that Mukuro had called him Tsuna's right-hand man and meant it.

"Let me take a look at your injuries again," he muttered. Talking to Mukuro was just exhausting.

Gokudera eyed the wounds critically as he cleaned and rewrapped them. The gashes to Mukuro's side and stomach – probably caused by Roll – looked like they were healing well enough, though the one on his stomach looked like it had just barely missed anything vital. That was the one at risk of getting infected, Gokudera decided, so he was doubly careful about cleaning it.

The bruises were in their ugliest stage, especially around Mukuro's ribcage, but there wasn't much that could be done for them other than just let nature take its course.

Mukuro's left knee was healing fine – though a good chunk of skin had been scraped off, so long as nothing got in it there shouldn't be any problems.

His right ankle, though…

Gokudera was as gentle as he could be examining it, and Mukuro could keep up a poker face through just about anything, but even so Mukuro hissed and flinched at Gokudera's ginger touch.

Definitely a fracture, Gokudera thought grimly. Bad enough on its own, but combined with the raw, bright red ring that circled it – a friction burn so intense it had been bleeding that first day – that Mukuro dragging it to Gokudera's apartment had torn wider –

Ouch.

"You seriously need to stay off this as much as possible," Gokudera told Mukuro firmly. "I will feed you fucking breakfast in bed and escort you to the goddamn toilet if I have to, but don't get up on your own, okay? As far as I can tell it's the burn that's severe, not the fracture, but if the fracture is bad – or _gets _bad – it'll need surgery to fix. And you don't want to have to stay in the hospital, right?"

Mukuro looked displeased, but sighed. "Very well."

Gokudera helped him to bed, and hurried through his homework before finally flopping down on his half of the futon. Wearing just his boxers tonight, since that was all Mukuro was wearing too, and it wasn't like Mukuro hadn't seen all of him last night –

Gokudera hesitated, and then rolled over to look at Mukuro. His eyes traced the contours of Mukuro's body, from shoulders, to shoulder blades, to lower back, to…

"What are you staring at, I wonder," Mukuro murmured, sounding amused, and Gokudera hastily wrenched his eyes upwards to see Mukuro had turned his head enough to keep one eye pinned on him.

Gokudera glowered at him, cheeks hot, and was about to roll back over, but before he could, Mukuro shifted around so that they were face to face.

"You're quite aesthetically pleasing by society's standards too, you know," Mukuro said, smirking.

Gokudera gave him a slightly incredulous look. "You suck at flirting," he said flatly. "Last night with the 'let me have you' crap, and now _aesthetically pleasing by society's standards?_ You sound so fucking creepy."

"My apologies," Mukuro said dryly. "Given you're not some random stranger I'll either kill or never see again, I presumed you would prefer some degree of honesty over false flattery."

"Well, yeah, I guess," Gokudera replied, deciding to ignore the first half of that sentence. "So let me get this straight. You want to own me, think I'm aesthetically pleasing by society's standards, and… want to go on a date with me?"

"I said a _degree _of honesty," Mukuro said. "Since my role is just to act as an interested party to soothe your bruised ego after being rejected by Sawada Tsunayoshi."

"Thanks for clarifying that," Gokudera growled, gritting his teeth.

Mukuro smiled, reached over, and began to brush the hair out of Gokudera's face.

Gokudera glared at him fiercely, but before long his eyelids began to droop.

"Mukuro…" he mumbled, trying to keep his tone grouchy, but it was damn hard with Mukuro caressing him so gently.

"Mm?"

Not sure what he wanted to say, Gokudera draped one arm over Mukuro and snuggled in closer, bumping their foreheads together. Mukuro's hand shifted to languidly stroking up and down his back, the soothing circles and soft breaths against Gokudera's cheek coaxing him even closer towards sleep.

"Doin' it on purpose," Gokudera accused, already half-dreaming.

"What?"

"Makin' it really hard… to hate you…"

If Mukuro replied, Gokudera fell asleep before he could hear it.

* * *

End A/Ns: If you guys enjoy reading this half as much as I enjoy writing it that would be a dream come true for me. xD

(Chapter revised 7/9/13)


	4. The Third Day

A/Ns: I do not usually write this much this quickly but this fucking plot man, this fucking plot _will not leave me alone. _*cries*

* * *

To Our Mutual Benefit

Chapter 4

* * *

"Wake up."

A finger prodded him.

"Goddammit, wake up!"

A hand shook his shoulder.

"Mukuro!"

A foot pressed against his (bruise-covered, housing a few cracked ribs) chest.

Mukuro raised his head just enough to give Gokudera his most potent death glare, not even alleviated by his usual smile because it was too early in the morning for smiling and if Gokudera did not remove his foot from Mukuro's person Mukuro was going to gouge his eyes out and stuff them down his throat.

Gokudera seemed to recognize the danger he was in as he quickly backed away a few paces, but he continued to glare right back.

"You're eating and using the bathroom before I leave for school," Gokudera told him. Not asked, not suggested, not even strongly recommended. Told. To Mukuro. First thing in the morning. "That way you shouldn't need to be on your feet at all until I get home."

That would have sounded reasonable if it weren't first. Thing. In. The. Morning.

Instead of responding, Mukuro just continued to glower so darkly even Hibari would have been impressed.

If Mukuro had been uninjured, he was certain it would have been effective, but Gokudera looked distinctly _un_impressed. The Storm guardian bent down and bodily hauled Mukuro up, ignoring the near-bestial snarl his efforts elicited.

"Not a morning person, are you," Gokudera commented acerbically as he dragged Mukuro to the bathroom. Mukuro refused to dignify that with a response.

He was perfectly capable of being functional in the morning, if he chose to be. The key phrase there being _if he _chose _to be._

Injured and capable of admitting (if only to himself) that Gokudera had the right idea, Mukuro grudgingly allowed himself to be bullied through the morning necessities and served breakfast in bed.

The moment Mukuro finished eating, he promptly fell back to sleep.

He woke more naturally perhaps two hours later, still annoyed and not feeling remotely rested. His mood only darkened further when he saw Gokudera had left a sheet of paper on his chest that said _Stay off your feet unless you absolutely have to, you idiot._

Mukuro wanted to crumple it up and throw it across the room, but now that he was properly awake he was able to regain control of his temper. So instead he just set it aside.

In order to calm himself, he took a moment to appreciate that Gokudera had gone to the trouble of leaving a stack of books and magazines next to the futon, as well as a portable CD player and a stack of CDs. He'd even left one of the half bento boxes and a water bottle there, so Mukuro wouldn't need to stand to get something to eat or drink. Gokudera was certainly going out of his way to see to Mukuro's needs.

Mukuro's lips quirked with amusement. Gokudera couldn't even afford an MP3 player, poor thing. Well, it seemed he was barely scraping by just paying for rent and food.

Mukuro couldn't imagine living like this by choice. Someone from Gokudera's background deciding to live in a rathole apartment, with little or no financial support, a slave to society, all to do something as plebian as go to school with his friends?

Mukuro just did not see the appeal of normalcy.

He took the book from the top of the stack and saw it was the same one he'd been browsing through last night. A social studies textbook. Mukuro had never received any formal schooling himself, instead structuring his information acquisition based on what he deemed relevant, interesting, or both. He had no desire to be indoctrinated like some common sheep.

The culture of a school might be interesting to experience, he allowed, especially since he hadn't bothered to do so when he set about taking over Kokuyo Middle, but he certainly wouldn't want to spend more than a day or two at it.

"_I was just thinking it'd make Tsuna happy if I could get you to hang out with us some time."_

Mukuro smiled wryly. That, too, might be an interesting experience, but the benefits of winning even more of Tsuna and his guardians' trust didn't outweigh the fact that it would likely do irreparable damage to Mukuro's image. Even allowing Gokudera the knowledge that Mukuro was marginally interested in that proposal was showing too much weakness.

Maybe he would encourage Chrome to do so and simply watch through her, though that wouldn't be quite the same as experiencing it for himself.

Despite the reading material, music, and his own plots to occupy him, Mukuro was bored almost past the point of endurance by the time Gokudera finally returned.

"Welcome home," he drawled, giving Gokudera a thin, humorless smile. Mukuro had yet to forgive him for this morning.

Gokudera just shot him a flat look as he dropped his school bag, then knelt near the foot of the futon and reached for Mukuro's ankle. Mukuro tensed, fingers digging into the blanket as Gokudera carefully inspected it.

"I think it looks a little better," Gokudera said at last, tone brisk and impersonal, sitting back on his heels. "The friction burn is healing, anyway. Take your shirt off so I can check on those gashes."

"All business this afternoon, aren't you?" Mukuro asked, tilting his head contemplatively as he regarded Gokudera. Judging by the body language and tonal cues he was picking up… "Now that the others know I'm staying here, they must have been asking about me, hm? And so you felt self-conscious regarding our intimacy, and concern that they might find out somehow. So now you're trying to keep your distance from me?"

Gokudera's jaw clenched, eyes flashing with agitation. "What are you, my therapist? And what do you care? You're still getting what you want from me so it doesn't matter, right?"

He reached for the bandages wrapping Mukuro's stomach, but Mukuro grabbed his wrist to stop him. Gokudera opened his mouth in preparation of snapping some kind of protest, but froze when Mukuro turned his wrist over and bent his head to place a kiss in the middle of Gokudera's palm, heterochromatic eyes seizing green and holding them in place with an unblinking stare.

After a moment of silence during which Mukuro could feel Gokudera's pulse jump, the Mist guardian murmured in a low, sultry tone, "Don't assume you know what I want, Gokudera Hayato."

For a moment, Gokudera didn't move. Then he practically lunged for Mukuro, seizing his face in his hands and kissing him fiercely, almost aggressively.

Of course, Gokudera had been right, Mukuro thought idly as he submitted to the kiss and settled his hands on Gokudera's hips. He didn't care, and the lodging and medical assistance were all that mattered to him. But his side of the bargain was being as convincing as possible that the opposite was true.

And since, as Gokudera had pointed out last night, his attempt at the direct approach didn't work as well when the target was familiar with him, it was up to Mukuro to prompt Gokudera into being the one to take direct action. Which he would be less inclined to do if Mukuro didn't provide him with subtle messages that his advances were not just welcome, but desired.

Likely having been forced to talk about Mukuro with Tsuna and the others all day today, particularly after the difficulties Mukuro had given him this morning, Gokudera's body practically radiated stress and tension. And, of course, sex was one of the best known and most effective forms of relief for such things.

As if on cue, Gokudera began to grind his hips against Mukuro's, the friction increasing as both their bodies responded. Mukuro gave a low purr, one hand moving to grip Gokudera's ass while the other fisted in his hair.

Gokudera broke away from the kiss, panting, an edgy look in his eyes that Mukuro wasn't entirely sure how to interpret. Gokudera seemed to be struggling with some kind of internal dilemma, even as he continued to press his body against Mukuro's.

"I'm going to the bathroom to grab some lube," Gokudera said at last in a husky voice, having evidently come to some sort of decision. "When I get back, I want you to look like the Tenth."

Mukuro stiffened. "I beg your pardon?" he asked icily.

"Did I fucking stutter?" Gokudera snarled, eyes flashing. "You really want to help me? Use illusions so I can pretend I'm having sex with Tsuna." A sort of haunted desperation darted about his eyes, and he whispered, almost to himself, "Just once. Just once, and I can let him go."

Mukuro studied him. Something else had happened today. Mukuro's own feathers had still been ruffled enough that he'd misjudged Gokudera's mood.

But perhaps he could turn this to his advantage. What Gokudera was asking for wasn't the most emotionally healthy of choices, and was bound to have some negative repercussions on him, thus making it easier for Mukuro to manipulate him.

Part of him questioned, and quite rationally too, if debasing himself to the point of allowing Gokudera to have anal sex with him while pretending Mukuro was Tsuna was worth having that kind of emotional leverage over Gokudera.

It all depended on what he thought to get out of Gokudera, he supposed. A way into the Vongola? But with Tsuna's trust, Gokudera's wasn't necessary. Undermining Gokudera's confidence, thus weakening Tsuna's support base? But one of Mukuro's potential plans was manipulating Tsuna into turning against the mafia world himself, in which case weakening Gokudera would be counterproductive. Blackmail? But if he were to use this event as blackmail, that would drive Gokudera away from him permanently –

Hm, interesting. For some reason that wasn't an acceptable option.

Part of him wanted to drag Gokudera into emotional dependency on him just for the sake of having Gokudera be emotionally dependent upon him.

Mukuro had been silent for almost too long, he realized. Allowing Gokudera to see him considering the matter was good; taking too long, and thus appearing to drag his feet about it, was not.

"Very well, then," Mukuro said at last, quietly. He lifted a hand, cupping one of Gokudera's cheeks while kissing the other. When he pulled back, Gokudera looked so conflicted, Mukuro couldn't help but say with deceptive gentleness, "If that's what you want."

Gokudera's expression became even more tense, but he stood and walked into the bathroom.

Mukuro sighed softly. He used one hand to begin to prepare himself while shrouding his body in the illusion of Tsuna.

* * *

Gokudera stared at the bottle of lubricant he held, the scrubbed a hand through his hair.

What the hell was he doing?

It was all Mukuro's fault, he tried to tell himself. Dealing with that shit from Mukuro this morning, and then going to school and all day it was just Mukuro Mukuro Mukuro. Tsuna asking about how Mukuro was doing, how was he feeling, did he like the food Tsuna had sent, what would he do all day by himself, did Gokudera think Mukuro would mind if Tsuna visited him –

Mukuro Mukuro _fucking Mukuro._

"_Why do you even care about him so much?" _Gokudera had blown up at last on the way home from school, temper snapping out of his control after an entire day of the person he loved expressing so much concern for a person he hated, pettily wondering to himself if Tsuna ever got that worried about _him, _and okay yeah he knew he did but Tsuna should be _more _concerned about Gokudera because he was Tsuna's right-hand man, and a better friend than Mukuro ever would or could be, so _why _did Tsuna care so much?

"_He's a murderer! He ruined Lancia's life, he emotionally tortured Fuuta, he possessed me and Sis and tried to possess you, he calls you his target and manipulates you and Chrome and everyone around him, he has never _once _apologized for any of the shit he's done to us, so why the hell do you even care about him at all?!"_

Tsuna had stared at him, eyes wide and hurt. He'd looked down and away, and after a minute answered quietly, _"Mukuro's not the kind of person you think he is. He's… I don't think he's the kind of person _he _thinks he is. I care about him because he needs people who care about him, and because I consider him my friend." _Lifting his head to meet Gokudera's gaze, eyes bright with conviction, Tsuna had finished, _"Please, just try to give him a chance, Gokudera-kun."_

Gokudera didn't want to give him a chance.

Tsuna defending Mukuro, having that much faith and trust in _Mukuro _hurt, doubly so since things were still shaky between Gokudera and Tsuna right now. The only way Gokudera knew to deal with this kind of heart-wrenching pain was to lash out.

He wanted to lash out at Tsuna, but he couldn't lash out at Tsuna, because it was _Tsuna. _He'd done enough damage to his boss – to his _best friend _– for one day, for a whole _eternity. _

He wanted to lash out at Mukuro.

He wanted to lash out at himself.

Gokudera's fingers clenched around the bottle of lube. He spun on his heel and stalked out of the bathroom, to vent his pain and frustration and loneliness in the only outlet he had.

* * *

When Gokudera finally climaxed and then slumped against Mukuro, breathing raggedly, Mukuro promptly dropped the illusion, body aching.

In certain circumstances he could see himself enjoying rough sex, and to some extent he had, but pretending to be Tsuna had not been fun, and that kind of treatment while injured sapped away any other chance at pleasure.

Gokudera hadn't seemed to be particularly enjoying himself either, instead just taking out deep-seated anger and frustration on Mukuro.

Now Gokudera curled so that his forehead was braced against Mukuro's shoulder, fingers curling against Mukuro's chest. Mukuro sighed and sat up, draping one arm around Gokudera's back to hold him in place. Gokudera was still straddling his hips, so their slick, sticky bodies were pressed flush against one another.

Mukuro was completely unsurprised when Gokudera's shuddering breaths made the transition to tearless sobs.

For a minute, Mukuro just let him, neither attempting to comfort Gokudera nor push him away. He would very much like to know what had happened today to so thoroughly wreck Gokudera emotionally. And perhaps flay the source alive if it was someone or something other than Tsuna, Mukuro, and the current state of affairs they were in.

Alas, Mukuro doubted it was.

Finally, Mukuro said dryly, "Having one's partner burst out sobbing after intercourse does not do much for one's confidence in their sexual prowess."

Gokudera's sobs came to a choking halt. After a moment of hesitation, he rasped, "It's not you…"

"I know," Mukuro replied languidly, prompting a soft growl from Gokudera. "So what is it, then?"

A beat of silence. "I don't want to talk about it," Gokudera whispered.

Mukuro gauged that reaction, and decided it would be more harmful than beneficial to press the topic. "Alright."

Mukuro lifted his free hand and began to gently stroke Gokudera's hair. Gokudera's breath hitched, and his fingernails dug into Mukuro's chest.

"I'm a terrible person," Gokudera said at last, sounding defeated.

Mukuro paused his stroking, and instead curled a finger under Gokudera's chin to tip his head up. Gokudera's eyes were glazed and bright with tears, his expression the picture of fragility.

"Well," Mukuro murmured, half-lidded eyes above a half-wry, half-gentle smile, "you're certainly not the paragon of virtue Sawada Tsunayoshi is. But if you were to compare yourself to _me…_"

Gokudera stared at him, and Mukuro had to admit to himself that he had no idea how to read the expression. If he had to hazard a guess, it would be something bizarrely nonsensical like… reluctant epiphany?

"I can't," Gokudera said. "I don't know you at all."

Mukuro stilled.

What on earth did _that _mean? And there was a… freshness in Gokudera's eyes, as if he were looking at Mukuro for the first time. An awareness that made Mukuro's heart rate increase, just a bit.

"Well," Mukuro said slowly, "there is a remedy for that, you know."

The unnerving look in Gokudera's eyes vanished, replaced by a blank one. "What?"

Mukuro smiled. "Go on a date with me."

* * *

End A/Ns: Sorry to rob you guys of TEH SEX but even though I wanted it to happen plot-wise I just was not comfortable with the idea of writing that sex scene, sorry. 8D;;;

Someone asked if there were supposed to be implications of D18 in this fic, and while I guess you could read it that way if you wanted to, that is not the case. D18 is actually one of the few KHR pairings that I actively dislike, looool. 8D;;; BUT WHATEVER FLOATS YOUR BOAT BRO, if that's how you wanna see it you don't need my permission~ *thumbs up*

Anyway, thank you so much to everyone who's reading, reviewing, favoriting, and alerting. I am just so overwhelmed with how positive the comments have been, you don't even know. You guys are the best. *3*

(Chapter revised 7/9/13)


	5. The Fourth Day, Part 1

A/Ns: omfg ugh this was the first chapter that was really hard but I muscled through it because I _really really _wanted to get to what's going to happen next. *halo*

* * *

To Our Mutual Benefit

Chapter 5

* * *

The next day was Saturday, which meant no school, so Gokudera had virtually no time to reconsider agreeing to go on a date with Mukuro.

A date with Mukuro.

A date with _fucking Mukuro._

Heat flooded his face every time that phrase reared its head. And given the smug satisfaction in Mukuro's eyes every time Gokudera blushed, the bastard knew it, too.

Gokudera had lain awake too long last night, hating himself for what he'd asked Mukuro to do yesterday and doubly so for his resultant guilt pushing him into agreeing to the damn date. Why was Mukuro so fixated on that, anyway?

He craned his head around to look at the Mist guardian whom, upon falling asleep, had immediately rolled over and wrapped himself possessively around Gokudera.

And then Gokudera had realized why Mukuro was so insistent about a date.

The first two times he'd brought it up, Gokudera had flat-out refused him. The second time, Gokudera had even told Mukuro that they were not going out on _any _dates, period.

It was just some damn pissing contest, then, and before Gokudera had even realized it, Mukuro had already won.

And that was probably all there was to it. As Mukuro had said before, he was only _acting _interested in Gokudera. No way could he actually want to go out on a date, not when he didn't even want to hang out casually.

After breakfast, Gokudera examined Mukuro's ankle. The friction burn was healing well, and somehow even the fracture seemed better already. It didn't even look like a fracture anymore, though Mukuro still twitched a bit when Gokudera touched his foot.

A possibility occurred to Gokudera, and he gave Mukuro a skeptical look – or as well as he could without meeting Mukuro's eyes, which he hadn't been able to do since agreeing to the damn date.

"Are you using illusions to fix your ankle?" Gokudera asked dubiously. "How does that even work?"

"I'm providing minute support so that the bones sit correctly and won't shift, and can take a little more weight," Mukuro replied silkily. "It's true that I can't magically erase the fracture, and it does still hurt, but the support will make it easier to walk and negate the risk of movement worsening the injury."

"If it works so well, why didn't you do it before?" Gokudera asked. Mukuro gave him a tight, biting smile.

"Oya, so you think you could create miniscule illusions of a variety you've never used before all in one go around an injury that still causes great pain better than I could? No need to take into account the risk that being half a fraction out of place might cripple me permanently, it will just automatically be perfect the first time without any great amount of thought being put into it."

"Okay, I get it, shut up already," Gokudera grumbled, standing. "You're still wearing an actual brace, though," he added.

"I assure you, the extra support is quite welcome."

Once Mukuro's ankle was braced outwardly and inwardly, Gokudera helped him up, and Mukuro was able to stand on his own.

"It doesn't hurt too badly?" Gokudera pressed.

"No more than I can endure," Mukuro replied. Smiling, he gripped Gokudera's chin and forced him to meet his eyes for the first time since yesterday. "I wouldn't want to give you too much time to second-guess your decision, hm?"

Gokudera wrenched his head away, face hot, with temper as much as embarrassment and nerves. "Keh. Whatever."

Mukuro just chuckled.

As they made their way downtown, Gokudera asked awkwardly, "So, uh… should we see a movie or something?"

"If that's what you want to do," Mukuro replied. Mukuro was a pretty tough guy to get an accurate read on, but from what Gokudera could tell, a movie was legitimately appealing to him as an option.

Well, it would let Mukuro sit down and not involve a lot of them actually talking to each other, so yeah, that sounded pretty good to Gokudera, too.

"What kinds of movies do you like?" Gokudera asked, doing his best to ignore how weird it was to talk about movies with Mukuro.

"I'll watch just about anything, but comedies are my favorite," Mukuro replied idly, and Gokudera stopped short, giving Mukuro an incredulous look.

"_Comedies? _I thought you'd be more into, like, horror movies."

Mukuro shrugged. "If a horror movie is doing something unique with its premise, I enjoy it, but a lot of them are very much the same, and I find them rather boring, to be honest. I find action, mysteries, and drama boring, too. But romances and particularly comedies are entertaining."

Gokudera stared at him blankly. Mukuro – _Mukuro _– liked romances and comedies. "How did _that _happen?" he asked as they resumed walking, completely bemused.

Mukuro was silent for a moment, and then said in a detached tone, "When I was first attempting to learn about society and what was normal, I watched a lot of movies, as that was the least conspicuous means to do so. I ended up watching more comedies and romances because the subject matter they addressed was what I had the least amount of personal experience with. And I came to find them very entertaining, if not in the way their creators likely intended. I view romance as merely another variety of comedy, for instance. And humor was… something I had lacked, until then."

Gokudera almost made a catty remark, but a realization hit him before he opened his mouth and he choked his comment down.

He'd never heard Mukuro talk about his past before. What he knew, he'd heard from Tsuna and Reborn, and he remembered Tsuna saying that Ken and Chikusa had been the one to tell them about the Estraneo family and what they'd done, not Mukuro. Mukuro had dodged around telling them the reasoning behind his motives, dodged around talking about anything from the past.

Mukuro would gladly talk about the "rotten mafia," but never his personal experiences with it. Even just now, he'd avoided referring to it directly.

And the longer Gokudera let the silence drag on, he noticed, the more tense and distant Mukuro's expression became.

"I like action movies myself," Gokudera said at last, acting like nothing had happened. Mukuro instantly relaxed. "The more explosions, the better."

"All of the characters in action movies are idiots," Mukuro replied dismissively. "Protagonists and villains both. They always have dozens more intelligent options, but they resort to the lowest common denominator of blowing things up."

Gokudera shot him an indignant look. "Are you trying to say something, you bastard?"

Mukuro chuckled. "Your preferred means of combat is impractical, even if you yourself are capable of finding clever ways to utilize it," he said, and from what Gokudera could tell, he was being sincere.

"Thanks, I think," Gokudera muttered, frowning. That had definitely been a compliment. Well, mostly a compliment. From Mukuro. And it didn't seem to have any kind of hidden mockery or trick.

Weird.

"So, since this is a date, should we see a romance?" Mukuro asked, too cheerfully for Gokudera's liking.

"Hell no. And I don't really like comedies, either," Gokudera added.

"That doesn't surprise me," Mukuro drawled. "You're not exactly well-known for your sense of humor, Gokudera Hayato. What would you like to see, then?"

Gokudera scowled at him, even as he mentally ran through a list of what was currently playing. Eliminating the genres they'd already discussed… and anything with any kind of political leanings because watching something like that with Mukuro would be downright torture. Family films would be equally hellish.

Which just left…

"How do you feel about sci-fi?"

* * *

"…and they never addressed the paradoxes inherent in time travel," Mukuro complained three hours later, sitting across from Gokudera at an outdoor table at a café a few buildings down from the movie theater. "They didn't give the mechanics of how it works enough attention. Traveling to the future to gain information to change the past is one thing, particularly when one takes alternate timelines into consideration, but this revolved around a future version of the protagonist coming back to change the past, and they seemed to be operating with the assumption that there is only a single timeline, so it makes no sense whatsoever that – "

"Enough already," Gokudera groaned, scrubbing at his face with his hands. "That is the last time I watch a sci-fi movie with you."

Mukuro blinked at him innocently. "How oddly specific. So you would consider watching a different genre of movie with me again?"

Gokudera glowered and shoved food into his mouth to avoid answering.

Mukuro leaned his elbows on the table, steepled his fingers, and rested his chin on them, smiling at Gokudera. The movie had been bland at best, truly, but having new material with which to incite a reaction out of the Storm guardian was worth it. That much, at least, was entertaining.

Mukuro wasn't sure quite what it was about Gokudera's reactions that he enjoyed so much. The fact that they were so over-the-top and on such a short fuse was amusing, he supposed, but it was something more than that, too.

They were just so… genuine.

"Gokudera-kun? Mukuro?!"

Mukuro was pulled from his thoughts by the arrival of Tsuna, carrying shopping bags – and Nana, who smiled with amicable innocence at them both.

"Tenth!" Gokudera yelped, face going crimson. "And, uh… the Tenth's mother… hello…"

"Hello, Gokudera-kun," Nana said, beaming, before turning her smile to Mukuro. "Oh, what a handsome boy! Are you a friend of Tsu-kun and Gokudera-kun, too?"

Tsuna and Gokudera were both visibly sweating. Mukuro smiled brightly at Nana, enjoying watching the two other boys squirm.

"That's right," he said cheerfully. "I'm Rokudo Mukuro," he went on, giving his name in the Japanese order for simplicity's sake. "Are you really Tsuna's mother? You look more like his older sister."

The most basic and transparent type of flattery, but from his intel, Nana was not the most perceptive of people.

"Aren't you a sweet boy," Nana replied, laughing. "Oh, I know! Gokudera-kun, Rokudo-kun, why don't you come over and join us for dinner? The more the merrier!"

Oh, no.

Before Mukuro could begin to make any type of excuse, though, Tsuna's face lit up, which no doubt prompted Gokudera to say, "We'd love to, Sawada-san, thanks. Are you on your way home now? We were just about to leave, ourselves."

"Let's all walk home together, then," Nana said, beaming.

The moment her back was turned, Mukuro gave Gokudera his best death glare.

"Please, Mukuro?" Tsuna said quietly, dropping back to walk next to Mukuro.

Mukuro glanced at Tsuna, at the hope shining in his eyes. Then his eyes ticked over to Gokudera, walking on his other side, and noted that in addition to smug, Gokudera looked genuinely anticipatory, too.

Why? It made no sense. They shouldn't want Mukuro anywhere near Tsuna's family, especially given that Bianchi and Fuuta currently lived with them. Or at the very least, they shouldn't care that much about spending time with Mukuro. He couldn't very well uphold his side of the bargain with Gokudera in the presence of others and still be in keeping with the spirit of the agreement, and just two days ago Gokudera had looked personally disgruntled and reluctant about the idea of bringing Mukuro to Tsuna's house, only suggesting it for Tsuna's sake.

It was true that he was somewhat interested in the experience, but it was not in keeping with his image at all, and he'd already decided that it wasn't worth damaging his reputation, hadn't he?

But now the difficulty of extracting himself from the obligation was an added factor that tipped the scales, and under the weight of both Tsuna and Gokudera's expectant looks, Mukuro sighed.

"Very well, then," he murmured. Tsuna grinned, and Gokudera smirked.

When Mukuro walked into the Sawada residence behind Tsuna and Gokudera, Fuuta cut off mid-greeting, went pale, and fled from the room. Bianchi's expression darkened severely when she spotted him, and she promptly dragged Gokudera away, blazing eyes foretelling a blistering lecture and demand for explanation.

With an apologetic look at Mukuro, Tsuna hurried off to reassure Fuuta. Nana had proceeded to the kitchen already, leaving Mukuro standing on his own in the entryway, a bitterly wry twist to his smile. Well, what else had he been expecting –

"Nyahahaha, it's that pineapple head!" Lambo declared as he bowled into Mukuro's legs, I-pin hot on his heels, scolding him in Chinese.

Mukuro's right eye twitched. It had taken all his will power not to flinch at the impact to his right ankle.

"Ne, ne, pineapple head," Lambo said, clutching at Mukuro's legs and staring up at him with shining eyes. The awful little brat hopped onto Mukuro's feet, fingers digging into the fabric of Mukuro's pants to keep himself upright. "This is the first time you've come to play with us, right? Lambo-san wants to play hide and seek!"

"Get off of me," Mukuro said tightly, glaring down at the boy.

Lambo stared up at him, eyes filled with hurt. "Pineapple head… d-doesn't want to play with Lambo-san?"

"No, I don't," Mukuro replied, trying to move away. He intensely disliked answering to "pineapple head," but if he ignored the boy, Lambo would probably just pester him more.

Lambo's lower lip trembled. "Gotta… hold it… in… I can't!" Lambo burst out crying. "Pineapple head, you meanie! Lambo-san was really excited to play with you for the first time, too!"

"Could you play with them, please, Rokudo-kun?" Nana called out distractedly from the kitchen. "Sorry to trouble you, but just until Tsuna is done cheering up Fuuta?"

Mukuro stared down at Lambo and I-pin, resigning himself to his fate.

"I'll play with you under three conditions," he told the children silkily, and they immediately quieted to look up at him with eager expectation. "First of all, get off of me." Lambo pouted until Mukuro added, "In case you hadn't noticed, my foot is injured."

Lambo stared at the brace as if seeing it for the first time, and then giggled – not sounding sorry at all, but at least he backed away.

"Secondly, my name is Mukuro," Mukuro went on. "I will not answer to anything else. _Don't _call me…" His mouth twisted with distaste. "…Pineapple head."

Lambo looked sulky, but under Mukuro's quelling glare, he gave a reluctant nod.

"Finally…" Mukuro smiled. "You have to be 'it.'"

* * *

"…and it means a lot to the Tenth," Gokudera finished hotly. Bianchi still looked annoyed, but not quite so infuriated as before. Had he gotten through to her? "I haven't forgotten what he's done – I was there too, remember? But he's also helped us out a lot, and the Tenth accepted him as a guardian and forgave him. Besides, maybe if he spends some time around us – "

" – He'll change?" Reborn's voice interjected neutrally, and Gokudera almost jumped out of his skin. He hadn't heard Reborn approach or sensed his presence at all.

In response to the question, Gokudera just shrugged awkwardly and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Reborn hopped up onto Bianchi's shoulder, and surveyed Gokudera critically. "I warned Tsuna not to sympathize with him. I didn't think I'd have to tell you, too. It's true that, for the moment, Mukuro doesn't pose a threat to us, but it's better to keep him at a distance, letting him use us only when we can use him. So long as his primary goal is the destruction of the mafia, he could become an enemy again at any time."

Gokudera pursed his lips and looked away, unwilling to argue with Reborn. But…

Reborn tilted his head to the side, contemplative. "You disagree?"

Gokudera was silent for a moment, thinking back over the last couple of days. After what happened yesterday, he felt like he'd been able to take an objective step back and finally get some clarity, thinking about Mukuro's actions and what they meant as opposed to just reacting to what was on the surface.

Mukuro had been arrogant, mocking, and manipulative, that much was for sure. But the only time he'd radiated real hostility was when Gokudera had woken him up yesterday morning and he'd been cranky about it, and even then, Gokudera hadn't had any sense of being in real danger.

And though the affection and desire was a lie, now that Gokudera thought back, there had been just a hint of sincerity in Mukuro's comforting caresses.

Finally convinced, Gokudera lifted his head and met Reborn's eyes, resolute. "Yeah. That guy… doesn't want to fight us. He likes spending time around us. He's…"

_Not the kind of person I thought he was._

Shit. No way in hell was he saying _that._

"…not the same as he was when he first attacked us," Gokudera finished awkwardly.

After a minute, Reborn gave a thoughtful nod and smile. "I think you're right. But don't forget, Gokudera," he went on, expression turning solemn, "Mukuro hates the mafia more than he likes us. So long as that's the case, you can't trust him."

Gokudera just grunted in acknowledgement without quite agreeing before turning away and hurrying back towards where they'd left Mukuro.

_Mukuro hates the mafia more than he likes us._

So in order to get Mukuro to change…

Just flip it around.

Gokudera stopped short when he reached the living room, for a moment unable to process what he was seeing. Were Lambo and I-pin… clambering about in mid-air?

"Gyaaa! No fair, Mukuro!" Lambo whined. "Lambo-san found you so Lambo-san wins!"

"Kufufufu, that's not what we agreed to," Mukuro's voice seemed to echo out of nowhere. "I said the person who sees me first is the winner, didn't I? And you can't see me, can you?"

Gokudera had to take another second to process that. Mukuro was playing with Lambo and I-pin, using illusions to make himself invisible, but letting the kids climb all over him.

Lambo made a noise of intense frustration. "No fair no fair no _fair _making yourself invisible! Let Lambo-san see you right now!"

"I already told you what you need to do if you want me to be visible again," Mukuro said idly. "I don't need to repeat myself, do I?"

Looking extremely sullen, Lambo finally said, just as Tsuna returned to the room, "_Please, _Mukuro?"

Gokudera and Tsuna exchanged stunned looks.

Lambo had said _please. _And he'd called Mukuro by name, instead of an insulting nickname.

Lambo had fucking well said _please!_

Mukuro dropped the illusion making him invisible, showing that I-pin was hanging off his back, and Lambo was clinging to the front of his shirt.

"It looks like you win, Lambo," Mukuro said, smiling.

Lambo jumped off him and pranced around, cheering, "Yay! Lambo-san won! Lambo-san won! Lambo-san's going to tell Fuuta!" Lambo abruptly took off, I-pin hot on his heels.

"You're… unexpectedly good with kids, Mukuro," Tsuna said, aghast.

"If I couldn't endure that level of juvenile behavior, I'd never be able to deal with Fran," Mukuro replied dryly.

Which said a lot about Fran, Gokudera thought. He didn't think that obnoxious fruit-headed brat was difficult in the same way that Lambo was, but if he had to choose between dealing with Fran or Lambo, he'd take Lambo every time. By a mile.

Dinner was… interesting. Bianchi and especially Fuuta were abnormally quiet, but Lambo and I-pin seemed to regard Mukuro as their new favorite person and kept chattering excitedly at him. Nana kept asking Mukuro questions about himself – where he was from, his family, his hobbies, all sorts of things that made Tsuna visibly nervous because of course if Mukuro answered honestly…

But most of Mukuro's answers were vague and outright false, if Reborn didn't interject and redirect the conversation down safer routes before he got the chance.

After dinner, Gokudera and Tsuna were able to drag Mukuro up to Tsuna's room to play video games.

They spent a few minutes in uncomfortably stilted conversation – Mukuro contributing as little as possible while Gokudera and Tsuna were still somewhat awkward with one another – but then they got invested in the game and had something completely un-mafia- and un-relationship-related to talk about. Such as Mukuro being laughably bad at the game at first, only to quickly outstrip Tsuna and Gokudera both as he got the hang of it, beating them both by a mile.

After an hour or so, Reborn kicked Mukuro and Gokudera out, saying that Tsuna needed to study, and commenting on the fact that Mukuro looked terrible and probably needed to rest since he was still injured, which Mukuro had not appreciated but had been forced to grudgingly acknowledge he was tired.

As they left the Sawada residence, Gokudera stopped outside the front gate. "So?" he prompted.

"So, what?" Mukuro replied, glancing back at him. Behind them, Gokudera could still hear Lambo and I-pin making a racket as they ran around the house.

Gokudera gave him an exasperated look. Mukuro knew exactly what he meant, the bastard. "So, what did you think of hanging out like a normal person?"

Mukuro stared at him for a long minute, then looked away, his smile rueful, but – if Gokudera wasn't seeing things – with almost a hint of… warmth?

At last, Mukuro chuckled, and said quietly, "Well… I suppose it was – "

A crash, a wail, and a loud, exploding _bang _drew Gokudera's eyes back towards the Sawada residence, just in time to see an incoming shot from the Ten-Year Bazooka right before it connected with Mukuro.

An explosion of white smoke surrounded the Mist guardian.

"Kufufu…" said a deeper, richer version of Mukuro's voice. "Oh dear."

* * *

End A/Ns: Yeah I'm ending the chapter there, whatchu gonna do 'bout it? 8D

(Chapter revised 7/9/13)


	6. The Fourth Day, Part 2

A/Ns: unnngh omfg so tired

* * *

To Our Mutual Benefit

Chapter 6

* * *

For a second, Gokudera could only stare at the ten-years-older Mukuro in shock.

It was like realizing he found Mukuro attractive for the first time all over again; the fifteen-year-old Mukuro was definitely good-looking, but there was no denying that maturity had polished those looks even more. And the current Mukuro was only a head taller than him; for some reason, being loomed over by the adult Mukuro made his heart pound.

The man smiled at him indulgently, then looked around. "Oya, could this be… the first time you dragged me to Sawada Tsunayoshi's house?" He chuckled. "Let's not stand around here, I would prefer not to spend the entirety of my five minutes being gaped at by a pack of children."

Gokudera almost jumped when Mukuro placed a hand over the small of his back and began to steer him away from the Sawada residence. His heart sped up even more, and his face flushed.

Five minutes. The adult Mukuro was here for only five minutes. Was there something he should say or ask?

"You're unusually silent," Mukuro said, looking amused. Gokudera blushed harder.

"Shut up, you bastard! You showed up out of the blue so it's not like I can just figure out what to say," Gokudera snapped.

"Why not?" Mukuro asked, abruptly coming to a halt and turning to face Gokudera. Much to Gokudera's alarm, Mukuro bent over him, placing his hands on the wall on either side of Gokudera's head, blocking Gokudera in and forcing him to meet Mukuro's eyes. "Is it because you're… nervous?"

Gokudera was certain his face must be like a tomato by now. "Wh… wha… who would be nervous!" he sputtered. "Get off!" He pushed futilely at Mukuro's shoulders, but, much to his indignation, the man just chuckled and leaned in closer, nuzzling affectionately at Gokudera's temple.

Gokudera froze. Why would the twenty-five-year-old Mukuro be acting like this toward him? The stupid bargain was long since over and done with for him. So why…

"Isn't there something you want to ask me?" Mukuro murmured directly in his ear, causing a shiver to run through Gokudera. Mukuro drew back just enough to slide one finger underneath Gokudera's chin and tip his head up, forcing Gokudera to once again meet that predatory gaze. "Such as, oh… how things stand between us in the future?"

Part of Gokudera – the _rational _part – wanted to retort that there was no special relationship between them, they were just fellow guardians of the Tenth, and there definitely wouldn't be anything more than that if Mukuro didn't back the fuck off.

And that did not imply that there was a possibility for something more in the first place, shit fucking hell he needed to get some space so he could breath and get himself under control.

Unfortunately the fluttering nerves in his stomach were running the show at the moment, so Gokudera could only stare at Mukuro with helpless confusion.

Was Mukuro implying that in the future, he… that they… but no way, this was just a stupid act, this wasn't… he wasn't…

"Hm, maybe it's still a bit too soon," Mukuro said, and Gokudera might have been crazy but he could have sworn there was almost something a little bit _sad _in Mukuro's smile.

Mukuro began to draw back, but Gokudera's fingers dug into the material of his jacket, an instinctive reaction because for some reason he didn't want Mukuro to pull away.

The smile slipped off Mukuro's face as he regarded Gokudera contemplatively. Then, he gently brushed Gokudera's hair out of his face, used that hand to cup Gokudera's cheek, and began to bend in closer again.

Gokudera's heart rate accelerated.

When their lips were barely a breath apart, Mukuro paused.

"If you don't want me to," he said quietly, "just say so, Hayato."

"I don't know what I want," Gokudera whispered, speaking without thinking.

Mukuro chuckled, and straightened. His hand still rested on Gokudera's cheek, thumb stroking him idly.

"Ah, the trials of teenaged hormones," Mukuro said, amused smile back in place, though the look in his eyes was eerily solemn. "But you won't be able to figure out what you want if you just let your feelings run wild, Hayato. Save us both some trouble and put some real thought into it now."

Mukuro's free hand settled on Gokudera's waist, while the other caressed down the side of Gokudera's face and came to rest under his chin, thumb tracing Gokudera's lips.

"What is it that you want, and what are you willing to do to have it?"

Gokudera gaped at him, eyes wide.

Then, white smoke erupted.

* * *

Before he could finish answering Gokudera's question, something exploded against him, and Mukuro found himself stumbling back against a desk, dizzy and confused.

And an equally startled, ten-years-older Gokudera was staring at him.

Mind racing to catch up, Mukuro sighed. "I was shot by the Ten-Year Bazooka, wasn't I." It wasn't a question.

"Seems like it," Gokudera choked out, running a hand through his hair and looking awkward..

With one quick flick of his eyes, Mukuro took in his surroundings. An underground bunker of some sort, but a nicely furnished one, with a large center table and a detailed map of Italy. The desk was in the corner of the room, and had newspaper articles and a few reports scattered across it; Gokudera had apparently been in the process of annotating one of the latter, while Mukuro's future self…?

Given that Mukuro had appeared standing next to Gokudera's chair, leaning back against the desk, and nothing looked like it had been dropped, Mukuro's future self had probably just been talking to Gokudera, likely being intentionally distractive, if Mukuro were to hazard a guess.

Mukuro's gaze lingered on some of the reports for a moment, one eyebrow rising as he took in the information, and then Gokudera's future self made an exasperated sound.

"Get off your damn feet," Gokudera said curtly, frowning as he stared at the brace Mukuro wore.

Mukuro smiled indulgently at him, and hoisted himself onto the desk, using the opportunity to sift through some of the papers and read more.

"Stop that," Gokudera scolded, standing and smacking Mukuro's hand. Mukuro frowned at him. "You get five minutes in the future, and you'd rather spend it looking at reports than talking to me?"

"They're very interesting reports," Mukuro replied idly, but he reluctantly shifted his gaze to survey Gokudera more closely. His smile slipped away as he took in just how intense the look in Gokudera's eyes was, how his expression so blatantly declared that he cared about Mukuro. A lot.

Mukuro leaned back a little, uncertain and unnerved.

Gokudera, in turn, leaned in, placing his hands on top of Mukuro's and not allowing Mukuro to get any kind of distance.

"Let me ask you something," Gokudera said shortly. "What does Tsuna's trust mean to you, Mukuro? And Chrome's?"

Where was this coming from? Mukuro struggled to keep his expression impassive. He would have liked to be able to manage an enigmatic smile to better disguise how off-balance he was, but he wasn't quite able to muster one at the moment.

Without waiting more than a beat for an answer, Gokudera went on quietly, "It means a lot to you, right? Don't try to give me some bullshit about how it makes them easier to manipulate," he added disapprovingly when Mukuro opened his mouth to respond. "Be honest with me."

Mukuro glared back icily, and said nothing. Inwardly he was squirming. He extremely disliked the implications carried by Gokudera's words, and doubly so because at the same time, his heart was beginning to race with wary, tentative yearning.

The weight in Gokudera's gaze seemed to increase, his brow drawing down and mouth twisting. "Well, even if you don't want to tell me, I know for a fact that having peoples' trust means a lot to you, especially when it's given unconditionally, since it's not something you get very often. What I want to say is this: it works both ways, Mukuro."

Gokudera lifted one hand and rested his palm against Mukuro's cheek. Mukuro stiffened, extremely uncomfortable with the feelings radiating from Gokudera and how little he could comprehend them. And how much.

Gokudera's touch was gentle as he brushed the hair out of Mukuro's face. "We all know how rare it is for you to trust someone," he said quietly. "So if you do give us your trust, we'll value it just as highly as you value ours."

"Are you speaking for the Vongola?" Mukuro asked stiffly. Gokudera looked blank for a moment – a strange reaction that made what he'd seen in those reports click into place – and then quirked a smile.

"No," Gokudera replied. "I'm speaking for Tsuna, myself, and our friends." He cupped Mukuro's face again. Mukuro couldn't bring himself to reject the contact because he couldn't remember the last time he'd been touched with such affection. If he ever had been.

"I know that for you, what I'm asking is a lot," Gokudera said, tone and expression serious. "But give us your trust, Mukuro. At least enough to be honest with us. I promise you, we'll understand the significance. And on this I can only speak for myself," Gokudera went on with a bittersweet smile, "but I'd rather be hurt by your honesty than your lies. Besides, even as things stand currently between us in your time, our friendship isn't that fragile. But that doesn't mean you should let things reach the breaking point before you finally decide to be honest with me, okay?"

Gokudera bent forward and brushed his lips against Mukuro's cheek. Mukuro inhaled sharply.

"Be honest with me," Gokudera whispered in Mukuro's ear. "Trust me. Please."

Suddenly Mukuro was surrounded by white smoke, and he found himself stumbling against the present Gokudera, who yelped and caught him awkwardly.

For a long minute, they just stared at each other.

"Are you alright?" Gokudera asked at last. "You're really pale."

"_You're _bright red," Mukuro replied coolly. "What happened with _you?_" He paused, registering what it meant that they'd been standing so close together, and if Gokudera was that flushed…

"What did my future self do to you?" Mukuro asked, frowning. Nothing to jeopardize the way things currently stood between himself and Gokudera, certainly? He knew himself, and he would have understood the situation and acted as beneficially as possible.

Unless his future self defined "beneficial" differently than he did now, which was, unfortunately, entirely too possible. Especially given how… warmly… the future Gokudera had regarded him.

_Trust me._

Gokudera gave him an odd look. "Uh, nothing, really. Why, don't you trust yourself?" he asked acidly.

He used too, but for once he was doubting even that.

_Be honest with me. Trust me. Please._

"I don't trust easily," Mukuro replied, tone cold and biting. Which was not what he should have done, he should have used humor to incite a reaction out of Gokudera which would defuse the tension and allow things to go back to the way they had been five minutes ago. So why had he reacted so –

So… honestly?

_I'd rather be hurt by your honesty than your lies._

Gokudera's eyes widened a little, but then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I know," he grumbled, a hint of bitterness in his eyes. "Come on, let's go home."

* * *

Gokudera glanced over his shoulder at Mukuro as the two got ready for bed. The Mist guardian had been distant since being shot with the Ten-Year Bazooka, a distracted frown on his face.

Not that Gokudera wasn't distracted himself.

_What is it that you want?_

The future Mukuro had to have been talking about what Gokudera wanted from Mukuro. And it was a troubling question, because Gokudera didn't know what he wanted, but he _did _know that the future Mukuro had been right – if he didn't figure it out soon, it would only hurt them both more in the long run.

He'd spent the whole walk back and the hour or so since they'd gotten home thinking about it. What Gokudera wanted from Mukuro…

He wanted…

He wanted...

He wanted the damn bastard to be honest with him, for a change.

Gokudera wanted Mukuro to be _real _with him.

_What is it that you're willing to do to get it?_

Mukuro didn't trust easily. And getting him to be honest was almost as difficult.

All that Gokudera could think of was that if he was honest with Mukuro first, trusted Mukuro first, Mukuro might return the favor.

But was he willing to expose himself that much? If Gokudera opened up like that to Mukuro, and Mukuro _didn't _return the favor… or worse, took advantage of Gokudera's vulnerability… that would hurt. A lot.

Did he really want Mukuro to be honest with him that badly?

And if he did… why? Where had that desire come from?

_What is it that you want?_

Gokudera glanced at Mukuro again. He thought back over the last few days, and everything that had happened between them.

"Mukuro," Gokudera said.

"Mm?"

Gokudera closed his eyes, clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and said, "I… think I'm starting to become attracted to you."

Silence.

Mukuro understood perfectly well that Gokudera wasn't referring to just physical attraction, then.

And Gokudera didn't doubt that Mukuro also understood why Gokudera had said it.

Gokudera wished he could work up the nerve to turn around and see Mukuro's reaction, but the memory of how Tsuna had reacted when he'd confessed was still too recent and painful. As it was, his heart was thudding painfully in his chest, and it felt like all the blood in his body was rushing to his face.

"Hayato."

Gokudera's jaw clenched, but inch by inch, he forced himself to turn and look at Mukuro.

Mukuro's expression was unreadable. It wasn't _blank, _just… intense, gaze burning, red eye practically glowing, Gokudera just didn't know how to interpret what he was seeing.

"I want to have sex with you."

Gokudera's throat went dry, his face going from flushed to dead white, and for a moment his stomach clenched so hard he thought he was going to be sick, but then it hit him.

Mukuro had dropped any sort of pretense. His expression wasn't some carefully created mask meant to be read a certain way, it was real, a real window to what Mukuro was feeling, even if Gokudera didn't know how to interpret those real feelings yet.

Mukuro was being honest with him.

Gokudera immediately flushed red again. Suddenly, he felt shy. Which pissed him off, but he had no idea what to do about it.

Giving Mukuro an answer might be a good place to start.

"…Sure," he whispered hoarsely.

Part of Gokudera was wondering just what the hell he was doing. He was laying himself bare for Mukuro, heart and body both. Why? What for? Why risk himself like this?

"Really?" Mukuro asked, dangerously quiet.

Gokudera stared at him, and realized that, in his own way, Mukuro was doing the exact same thing.

Why?

If he didn't go through with this, he'd never know.

And for some reason he couldn't yet explain, Gokudera really, really wanted to know.

"Yeah," Gokudera said, meeting Mukuro's eyes with conviction.

Mukuro stared at him, and then slowly – almost tentatively – approached.

For a long minute, they just stood face to face and stared at each other.

Then Mukuro's eyes became hooded, and he bent his head, brushing his lips against Gokudera's, a guarded gesture. Gokudera settled his hands on Mukuro's hips and lifted his chin, turning the light contact into a real kiss. Gradually, the sense of tension relaxed and Mukuro deepened the kiss, his tongue caressing Gokudera's.

Gokudera's heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest when he realized the sense of realness was still there. Before, Mukuro's touches had been carefully crafted to offer solace, giving Gokudera what he needed without asking for anything in return.

Now Gokudera was aware of a real sense of need coming from Mukuro, the Mist guardian honestly exposing what he wanted and honestly pursuing it.

This one step was all Mukuro was willing to give him right now.

To most other people, it wouldn't have looked like much. They would have been disappointed, hurt, upset.

But Gokudera realized that even though this bare amount of honesty was miniscule by most peoples' standards – _I want to have sex with you _– for Mukuro, it was a huge gesture of trust.

That was Mukuro's answer.

Gokudera wondered when and how it was he'd come to understand Mukuro so well.

Gokudera's hands shifted, one to Mukuro's lower back, the other to the back of his neck, and he pulled the taller boy in closer.

Mukuro's breath hitched.

Gokudera pulled Mukuro with him down onto the futon, in the process shoving off what clothing they still had on, never fully breaking the kiss. He moved his hands to hold Mukuro's head in place, refusing to let him back away.

Mukuro, in turn, wrapped one arm around Gokudera's waist, and flipped them so that Gokudera was straddling Mukuro's lap. Their skin was slick and damp as they clung to each other, their erections rubbing against one another.

Mukuro blindly fumbled for the tube of lubricant that had been left beside the futon since last night. Once he had it, he coated his fingers with it and pressed one against Gokudera's entrance, then slowly slid it inside, his other arm holding Gokudera flush against him.

Gokudera shuddered, hands shifting from Mukuro's neck to his shoulders, where his fingers could dig in and gain better purchase. He fought to control his breathing as he felt his muscles flexing around Mukuro's finger, and he struggled to relax. Once he finally managed to do so, Mukuro pushed a second finger in.

Gokudera finally broke away from the kiss, though he kept his forehead pressed against Mukuro's. His stomach was twisting with nerves. When Mukuro had jacked him off that first night, and they'd had sex yesterday, the entire acts had revolved around Gokudera. Mukuro had been offering the use of his body, but Gokudera had yet to return the favor. Until now.

And before now, it hadn't felt real.

This felt very, very real.

"Nervous?" Mukuro murmured, pulling back just enough to meet Gokudera's eyes.

Gokudera darted a half-aggressive, half-shy look at him, and then buried his face in Mukuro's shoulder.

"Kufufu, I see," Mukuro said, free hand stroking Gokudera's hair. "…We can stop, if you want."

Gokudera took a few deep breaths, mentally bracing himself. Then he shook his head. "I… don't want to stop."

"Really?" That dangerous tone again.

Gokudera lifted his head to meet Mukuro's eyes again, temper spiking past his anxiety. "Yes, fucking really. Are you going to question it every time I give you an answer? I'm not going to lie to you, Mukuro."

Mukuro's eyes seemed to be drinking in Gokudera's, testing his conviction, searching for even a trace of falsehood.

"Alright," Mukuro said slowly. His smile was wary, but genuine. "I believe you."

"Good," Gokudera grumbled, then gasped, fingernails digging deeper into Mukuro's shoulder as the head of Mukuro's cock pressed against him. Hands weighing down Gokudera's hips, Mukuro slowly pushed deeper, eyes never leaving Gokudera's, both of them breathing raggedly by the time Mukuro was sheathed to his base.

Even more than Mukuro's cock inside him, it was the look in Mukuro's eyes that made Gokudera's nerves jitter. Mukuro's gaze was fixated entirely on Gokudera. The realness was still there, and it was telling Gokudera that right now, nothing mattered more than him.

It was terrifying, and it was thrilling.

Gokudera hissed a little as Mukuro drew up his legs and carefully shifted so that his knees were bracing Gokudera's back. One hand cupping the back of Gokudera's neck, Mukuro rested their foreheads together, and his other, lube-slick hand curled around Gokudera's cock.

Gokudera panted as Mukuro lightly ran his fingers up and down his length, occasionally dipping lower to stroke his balls. Not with any sort of goal in mind, as far as Gokudera could tell. Touching Gokudera just to touch him, listening to Gokudera's heavy breathing just to hear him, turning his head so that his nose was pressed against Gokudera's temple just to smell him.

Testing. Experimenting. Honest curiousity.

Gokudera flexed his fingers against Mukuro's shoulders. His thumbs traced Mukuro's collarbone, his hands wandering down to Mukuro's chest and then sliding back up again, following the contours of Mukuro's neck up into his hair.

Curious to see what would happen, and emboldened by Mukuro's own exploration, Gokudera gently began to massage Mukuro's scalp. When Mukuro purred and tilted his head into the petting, Gokudera shifted his fingers higher until they hit the clips holding Mukuro's hairstyle in place, and carefully pulled them out.

Mukuro let out a soft growl that abruptly cut off when, clips discarded, Gokudera began massaging his scalp more thoroughly, fingers running through his hair. Mukuro had great hair, Gokudera thought idly. Fine and glossy and with just enough body to avoid being thin.

Mukuro made a noise that was half-annoyance, half-pleasure as Gokudera increased his ministrations, thoroughly disheveling the trademark pineapple hairstyle.

"You…" Mukuro began, but silenced as Gokudera scratched the back of his head like he would a cat's.

"Got a problem?" Gokudera asked, smirking.

"Nnnngh. I suppose not," Mukuro replied, somehow managing to sound grouchy and blissful at the same time.

Gokudera's hands slid around to Mukuro's cheeks, and he gently propped Mukuro's head up while leaning back enough to see the fruits of his labor.

Face relaxed and honest, eyes hooded with sleepy pleasure, hair a tousled mess, Mukuro was breathtakingly beautiful. Doubly so because Gokudera knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was the first one to ever see Mukuro in such a state. Vulnerability looked amazing on him.

"You look happy," Mukuro noted, lips quirking into a dry smile.

"So do you," Gokudera replied, smiling back.

They stared at each other.

Eyes deeply intent on Gokudera, Mukuro slowly shifted them until Gokudera's back was on the futon, Mukuro's hands pressing down on either side of his head. Gokudera swallowed dryly, but wrapped his legs around Mukuro's hips.

Gaze still burning into Gokudera, Mukuro began a series of slow, languid thrusts.

Gokudera's breathing soon reached near hyperventilation levels. The internal friction and bursts of sharp pleasure through his body were only part of it. Being looked at like that, it felt like Mukuro was really _seeing _him, seeing all of him, drinking him in, _desiring _him, wanting him, wanting _him._

"M-Mukuro…?" Gokudera gasped, panting. Mukuro's fingers dug into the pillow, eyes glittering as the intensity sparked brighter.

Mukuro was showing him everything, Gokudera realized. Every thought, every feeling, was there for him to see.

There was hot desire, and cool calculation. Curiousity and wariness, confidence and nerves. Hatred and affection. A cold-blooded murderer, and a boy just like him.

A desire for acceptance, and an expectation of rejection.

Gokudera reached up and clutched at Mukuro's shoulders, drawing him in closer, hoping his eyes expressed his feelings just as clearly as Mukuro's expressed his.

_I am _not _going to reject you, you stupid bastard!_

Mukuro regarded him for a moment, and then his thrusts came faster, went deeper, spiking Gokudera's pleasure higher and higher until his back arched and he cried out with orgasm.

Mukuro bent his head and kissed him fiercely. Gokudera's fingers tangled in Mukuro's sweat-drenched hair as Mukuro plunged into his own climax.

Mukuro collapsed beside Gokudera, panting, nuzzling at Gokudera's shoulder as his arms coiled loosely around Gokudera's waist.

Gokudera understood the wordless request and responded without thinking about it, wrapping his arms around Mukuro and holding him close.

Clinging to one another, the boys fell asleep.

* * *

End A/Ns: Theeeeere's the sex I wanted to write! I hope it was worth the wait. 8D;;

Also assuming I manage to be as productive as I need to be this upcoming week, I might not be able to work on this again until Friday, but I've been spoiling you guys rotten with the pace of this so far anyway. ;P Hopefully this is enough to tide you over until next time~

(Chapter revised 7/9/13)

Revision A/Ns: AHAHAHAHAaaa…

Mukuro does a lot of nuzzling. In some ways, he and Gokudera both embody different cat stereotypes – Gokudera is the hissing, spitting, easily agitated cat (as demonstrated by Uri), and Mukuro is the aloof, smug, king-of-all-he-surveys cat.


	7. The Fifth Day, Part 1

A/Ns: IT'S A SUNDAY I'M ALLOWED TO SLACK OFF OK

* * *

To Our Mutual Benefit

Chapter 7

* * *

Mukuro woke with his face pressed against Gokudera's chest, arms wrapped around Gokudera's waist, and the Storm guardian absently stroking his hair, apparently unaware that Mukuro was now conscious.

Mukuro's eyes widened a little, and then half-closed as he mulled over the events of last night.

When Gokudera had told him that he was beginning to feel attracted to Mukuro, Mukuro's reply had meant to demonstrate that he was also beginning to feel attracted to Gokudera in return.

Mukuro had never been able to pin the word "attraction" to any of his feelings – not that he'd been aware of, anyway. But after meeting the future Gokudera yesterday, seeing how much he cared about Mukuro – how much he _trusted _Mukuro – Mukuro had finally been able to recognize that he actually could feel attracted to people.

The inexplicable, undefinable feeling born from Tsuna's trust in and concern for him was attraction.

The strong investment in Chrome's well-being, stronger even than the rest of the Kokuyo gang, was in response to the girl's complete and utter faith in and devotion to him, and the result of attraction.

Gokudera wanting to get to know him better, showing concern for him, offering up his vulnerability as a sign of trust, had sparked a desire in Mukuro he'd never felt before. A desire for intimacy… because he found Gokudera attractive.

Once was an anomaly, twice a coincidence, but thrice made a pattern. Mukuro prided himself on being a self-aware, analytical person, so he hadn't been able to avoid admitting to himself the fact that he felt attracted to others after all. Not based on physical appearance, but rather based on what was likely a mix of personality and their willingness to trust and be vulnerable with him.

But his attraction to Tsuna and Chrome was platonic; with Gokudera, the attraction had quickly become sexual. Perhaps because Tsuna and Chrome were sweet and innocent in a way Gokudera was not, so he didn't find their personalities attractive on a sexual level, mixed with the fact that Gokudera had _not _liked or trusted Mukuro at first, and so finally earning an offer of trust had been satisfying while inciting a fierce desire for more.

Having never felt attracted to someone that way before, and with the future Gokudera's words still fresh on his mind, Mukuro had warily decided to offer up that thimbleful of trust and honesty in return for what Gokudera had offered him, exposing himself in a way he never had before.

All his instincts and rational thought had screamed against it. But Mukuro knew that if you wanted to gain anything, sometimes you had to take risks.

Besides, even as he'd laid bare everything else, Mukuro had been very careful to hide the calculated decision to possess or kill Gokudera if that trust had been misplaced. He was still prepared to do so, if this fragile thread of trust between them snapped.

That established, Mukuro wasn't sure what Gokudera wanted to do about this mutual attraction.

Mukuro was content just to have it acknowledged, and perhaps occasionally indulge it with sex even after his injuries had healed, whenever he was in Japan. He couldn't stay much longer now, though.

Whenever he'd slept the past few days, he'd used it as an opportunity to check up on how Chrome and the others were doing, and relay new instructions as necessary. But he needed to join them soon, particularly since gaining the information from the future had allowed him to finally settle on a concrete plan of action, which he would very much like to set into motion as soon as possible. Besides, he disliked leaving them to act on their own for too long.

But he also didn't want to leave until the state of affairs between himself and Gokudera was clearly defined. The future Gokudera had been right in that much – where trust existed, however minute, it was much better to harm by honesty than by deceit. Mukuro would prefer for things not to become complicated unless he chose to make them so, and this matter was something he'd prefer to keep simple.

Mukuro's train of thought was broken by Gokudera abruptly stopping his caresses.

"How long have you been awake?" Gokudera asked, sounding disgruntled.

"Perhaps ten minutes or so," Mukuro replied, lips quirking into an amused smile at how long it had taken Gokudera to notice.

"Then say something sooner, you stupid bastard," Gokudera grumbled, pushing Mukuro away and getting to his feet.

Mukuro sat up and regarded him contemplatively. Gokudera's cheeks were flushed and he was avoiding Mukuro's eyes, not out of shame, but rather out of shyness and uncertainty as to how things stood between them. Very cute, Mukuro thought with a smile.

Gokudera glanced at him, saw the smile, and went even redder. "Don't look at me like that!" he snapped, then hastily whirled and retreated into the bathroom.

Mukuro chuckled, then frowned, and began attempting to fix his hair.

He wondered if Gokudera understood the significance of Mukuro allowing him to so thoroughly upset his hairstyle. After all, it was part of the carefully crafted image he presented to others, as well as the very first thing he'd ever been able to actively control about his life.

Allowing Gokudera to dishevel it had been a huge concession on Mukuro's part. He hoped Gokudera appreciated that.

After Gokudera emerged from the bathroom, Mukuro took his turn. His open wounds had all fully closed, and the ankle fracture was the only remaining problem of any significance. However, using illusions to do the work a surgery would have accomplished and wearing a brace allowed him some mobility, and if he could get a Sun Flame user – preferably Ken – to see to it, and his broken ribs, that would resolve the issue.

When Mukuro returned to the bedroom, feeling cleaner and more refreshed than he had since before his fight with Hibari, he found Gokudera pacing back and forth, a brooding expression on his face. When he spotted Mukuro, he blushed, looked away, then visibly steeled himself before lifting his head, meeting Mukuro's eyes, and stalking over.

"We should talk," Gokudera said firmly, as if he expected Mukuro to refuse.

"I agree," Mukuro replied mildly. "Let's talk, Gokudera Hayato."

Given the bedroom still smelled strongly of sweat and sex, they relocated to the kitchen. Mukuro hoisted himself up to sit on the table while Gokudera leaned back against the counter, arms crossed.

"So, uh," Gokudera began awkwardly. "Last night… we – "

Mukuro held up a hand to stop him, and Gokudera cut off, frowning. "Before we discuss that," Mukuro said, "I think we should address what happened while I was in the future." Gokudera blinked, startled, and Mukuro asked, "Would you mind telling me what my future self said and did to you? You needn't go over every detail," he added. "Just what you consider significant."

Gokudera gave him an odd look, but shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "Uh… you – he… said I should seriously think about what I want, and what I'm willing to do for it." Gokudera made a face, looking disgruntled. "He was also fucking handsy, and almost kissed me."

Mukuro filed that information away, though it had been more or less what he expected. "I met your future self," he supplied in exchange, and Gokudera's eyes widened. "We were alone in a room together. It didn't seem as if the circumstances had been intimate," he added dryly when Gokudera looked alarmed, "but your future self was also… overly concerned with me. And… handsy."

"Shit," Gokudera grumbled, glaring at the floor. "What the fuck does that mean, then?"

"At the very least, that even ten years from now, we're still attracted to one another, and on relatively good terms," Mukuro said absently, and blinked when Gokudera's head shot up. What had he –

"_We're_… _still _attracted… to _one another,_" Gokudera repeated slowly.

"That is what I said, yes," Mukuro replied coolly. For someone who showed flashes of intelligence on occasion, Gokudera could be extraordinarily dense. "Since apparently you need every little thing spelled out for you, yes, I am saying that I am beginning to feel attracted to you as well."

Gokudera bristled. "Well, excuse me for wanting things spelled out for me! It's not like I really have any experience with this, and… some things it's just nice to hear said out loud, you know?" he finished on a mumble, stuffing his hands into his pockets and blushing.

Mukuro let that sink in, then sighed, and went on as if the interruption hadn't happened. "The reason I bring up the interactions with our future selves is because the implication of what some of your future self was saying is that for some reason, things became… problematic… between us as a result of this set-up, so I wanted to make sure there were no misunderstandings between us due to lack of communication."

"Problematic?" Gokudera repeated, frowning. "What makes you think that?"

Mukuro rose an eyebrow at him. "You said my future self told you to seriously think about what you want, right? If he chose to spend his five minutes just saying that, that means he thought it had the potential to change something. Doesn't that imply that in the original version of his past, something happened because you weren't clear about what you wanted?"

Gokudera's eyes widened, and then he gave Mukuro a considering look. "So what did my future self say to make you think something bad happened?"

Mukuro pursed his lips. He'd wanted to avoid sharing that, but he supposed that would make the whole point moot, wouldn't it?

"He told me to be honest with you," Mukuro said, glancing away. "…And trust you."

* * *

Gokudera had to fight the urge to let his jaw drop, stunned Mukuro would first, admit that, and secondly, if last night and this talk were any indication, actually _follow _that advice.

Mukuro seemed skittish all of a sudden, and Gokudera worried that one wrong reaction would result in the whole conversation going sour.

"…I see," he said at last, keeping his tone as normal as he could. "Thanks for telling me." Gokudera took a deep breath, and then went on, "So… what do you want to do about us… being attracted to each other?"

Mukuro's eyes ticked back over to him, and he surveyed Gokudera levelly.

"Nothing, at the moment," Mukuro said. "I have other priorities. I don't intend to stay here more than a few more days, at most."

That stung. Gokudera wasn't sure _why _it stung – he wasn't sure what he wanted to do about feeling attracted to Mukuro either. Being attracted to someone wasn't enough reason to take things further in and of itself, and Gokudera was leery of starting anything while his heart was still smarting from Tsuna's rejection. But…

"Other priorities," Gokudera repeated flatly. "You mean destroying the mafia?"

Mukuro's mask was reforming, Gokudera noticed bitterly.

"So what if I do?" Mukuro said, smirking. "You don't think finding someone attractive means more to me than my goals, surely?"

"No, of course not," Gokudera replied shortly. "I know you're not that shallow. I guess I just…" Running a hand through his hair, Gokudera let out a gusty sigh. Grimacing – he couldn't believe he was about to admit to this – he went on, "I'm just… worried about you."

Mukuro blinked, mask dissipating once more. "Worried about me?"

"Yes, worried about you," Gokudera snapped, scowling. "An unfortunate side effect of caring about someone is getting worried when they do things that might be dangerous. Or have questionable life goals that I don't agree with."

Mukuro was silent for a moment. When it looked as if he were preparing to stand, Gokudera strode over quickly to close the distance between them on his end – Mukuro still shouldn't be on his feet if he could avoid it. Besides, it was nice to have the height advantage for a change; with Mukuro sitting on the table and Gokudera standing over him, he was almost a head taller.

A flicker of amusement crossed Mukuro's face before it faded. "…I appreciate it," Mukuro said quietly, meeting his eyes and lifting one hand to cup Gokudera's cheek. "Your caring about me."

Gokudera's mouth twisted, but he couldn't think of how to convince Mukuro – or what he was even trying to convince Mukuro _of. _He wasn't sure talking Mukuro out of destroying the mafia was even _possible, _and it wasn't like he wanted Mukuro to abandon the rest of the Kokuyo gang wherever they were just to stay with him a little longer. If nothing was going to come of their mutual attraction, did he even _want _Mukuro to stay longer than a few days more?

_What is it that you want, and what are you willing to do to get it?_

He'd figure it out. Within a few more days, if he could.

Taking the hand Mukuro had cupped against his face and pulling it down, Gokudera said, "So if you're going to be here a few more days, do you still want to, uh…"

"Have sex?" Mukuro tilted his head to the side, smile back in place. "Do you want to?"

"Only if _you _want to," Gokudera replied. "I don't want you… pretending anything, anymore." Blushing, he mumbled, "But yeah, if you want to, I do."

"I'll keep that in mind," Mukuro said. "There is something I'd like to do first, though."

"What?"

Mukuro smirked. "We never got to finish our date."

* * *

End A/Ns: I have very weird, oddly specific headcanons for all the KHR characters' sexualities. Mukuro's is the most complicated, though, so hopefully my attempt to get it across a) makes sense, and b) seems in character. xD;;;

And I swear, I have work to do this week, and goddammit I'ma do it. If I post another chapter before Friday, someone smack me because it means shit did not get done.

(Chapter revised 7/9/13)


	8. The Fifth Day, Part 2

A/Ns: Don't smack me shit got done. Not all the shit, true. Not even most of the shit. Not even half of the shit. But the shit that's due tomorrow is done and I've got until Thursday to do the rest. *thumbs up*

* * *

To Our Mutual Benefit

Chapter 8

* * *

"Why are you so obsessed with this date thing, anyway?" Gokudera huffed as they sat down in the parfait shop. Sweets weren't really his thing so he'd just gotten an ice coffee, but Mukuro had a towering chocolate monstrosity and looked happier than Gokudera had ever seen him.

"Your reaction every time I bring it up is entertaining," Mukuro replied brightly as he took his first bite. Gokudera gave him an indignant look.

"That's it?!"

"Well," Mukuro said, giving him a dry smile, "I also like spending time with you, Hayato. It's..." He waved his spoon as if searching for the right word, apparently ignoring the fact that Gokudera had gone bright red. "...Fun."

Gokudera's eyes widened. That was the first time he'd ever heard Mukuro use the word "fun" for something as normal as a date. "Amusing" and "entertaining" were common parts of Mukuro's vocabulary, but they always carried an air of condescension and aloof arrogance. To his knowledge, Mukuro had only used the more genuine "fun" to refer to things like fighting them before.

Which ought to have been his first hint that Mukuro liked spending time around them, actually.

…And since when was it just "Hayato"? And why was he _happy _about Mukuro addressing him so familiarly?

Mukuro seemed to have devoted his full attention to his parfait, and Gokudera got the sense that if he pressed the "fun" issue he'd end up talking to Mukuro's mask. It was a pain to tread so carefully in their conversations, but if that's what he had to do to make Mukuro comfortable being honest with him, so be it.

"I never knew you liked chocolate so much," Gokudera said instead, changing the topic as he eyed the parfait dubiously.

Mukuro shrugged. "I like sweets in general, but chocolate is my favorite," he admitted cheerfully. "I prefer Italian confections, but Japan has some decent options."

"Uh-huh. Don't you guys live off of snack food at Kokuyo Land?" Gokudera asked, frowning. "Don't tell me it's all sweets?" When Mukuro just blinked at him innocently, Gokudera's expression turned incredulous. "How are you not fat?!"

"I have a fast metabolism," Mukuro said blandly. "Using illusions burns calories, too. Any type of Flames, really, since they're powered by a combination of resolve and your body's energy stores."

"Oh," Gokudera said. "I guess that makes sense." He wanted to point out that Mukuro's diet still didn't seem very healthy, particularly since the Kokuyo gang was a pack of still-growing teenagers and one still-growing kid, but he didn't exactly have room to throw stones himself, so he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, searching for another topic. "So, uh... what do you want to do after this?"

"Perhaps go to a concert?" Mukuro suggested idly. "I heard there was a famous pianist in town who's performing toni – "

"No," Gokudera said sharply, and looked away when Mukuro's eyebrows rose. "I mean, uh... I don't..." He almost said he didn't like classical music, but that lie hurt too much and Mukuro would probably be able to tell anyway. So he swallowed dryly and went on in a stiff voice, "I don't want to."

"Why not?" Mukuro asked. His tone sounded mild, but the look in his eyes was anything but.

"None of your business," Gokudera snapped automatically, bristling, then rethought his tactics and added pointedly, "I'll talk about my past if you talk about yours."

"Ah," Mukuro said, sitting back with a look of comprehension on his face. He tilted his head contemplatively, wearing a dark smile. "I suppose the mafia's left its scars on us both, hm?"

"Let's not talk about the mafia," Gokudera said curtly. "Like, at all."

"As you wish," Mukuro replied, shrugging again. "What would you like to do next, then?"

Gokudera's brow furrowed as he thought about it. "I don't know, maybe just walk around town to see if anything catches our eye? If you think your foot's up to it," he added, belatedly remembering the injury.

"Sure," Mukuro agreed neutrally.

In all honesty, Gokudera didn't have high hopes of finding something that gelled with both their interests. But he doubted Mukuro would give in to just going home now, so if they made a tangible effort to find something to do first, Mukuro might agree to going back sooner when they didn't find anything. Anyway, now that Gokudera was enjoying Mukuro's company more, he was interested in talking to him and getting to know him better – not that he had any plans whatsoever of admitting to _that_.

Somehow Gokudera found himself doing a lot of the talking, though, mostly just complaining about Yamamoto, Ryohei, Lambo, and Hibari, and praising Tsuna. With anything mafia-related off the table, that just left mundane things, and Gokudera quickly found out to what extent Mukuro's life revolved around destroying the mafia. Mukuro had a few anecdotes to share about the Kokuyo gang, mostly revolving around Fran tormenting Verde during the Representative Battle (which Mukuro seemed to find hilarious), but otherwise he just listened to Gokudera talk about his daily life.

Gokudera trailed off after relating Shitt P.'s most recent antics, and they walked in silence for a minute before Gokudera finally burst out, "Don't you ever get sick of it?"

When Mukuro shot him a questioning look, Gokudera went on, "Just… your life totally revolves around your revenge, doesn't it?"

Mukuro's gaze chilled, and he looked away. "It's not revenge," he said coolly.

"Bullshit," Gokudera scoffed. Mukuro shot him an agitated look but grudgingly tipped his head in acknowledgement.

"Revenge is one aspect of it," he allowed, then went on, "but that's not my primary motivation, nor even a particularly prominent one."

"What is, then?" Gokudera asked. "I think I sort of get why you want to destroy the mafia, but not why you're so obsessed with it that it totally consumes your life."

"I thought we weren't talking about the mafia," Mukuro said, tone warning Gokudera to drop it.

Fuck that, Gokudera thought. "We're not talking about the mafia," he replied. "We're talking about you. Which, for some reason, is impossible to do without the mafia coming up. Don't you think that's weird?"

"So what if it is?" Mukuro said, using the same dangerously quiet voice from last night. "What I choose to do with my life is none of your business, Gokudera Hayato."

Gokudera stopped short, hurt lancing through him. Mukuro paused and turned to meet his eyes, expression dark, not a hint of a smile on his face.

Somehow they'd reached the steps of Namimori Shrine, and there was no one else around, so Gokudera didn't bother to censor himself.

"Fuck you!" he blew up. "You bastard, do you have any idea how fucking frustrating it is to actually give a damn about you?! You're so fucking touchy about talking about yourself, I can't even try to help without stepping on a goddamn land mine!"

"I don't recall asking for help," Mukuro retorted. "And what – "

"I don't need you to ask me!" Gokudera cut him off. "If you need help, I'll just fucking help!"

"With what, exactly?" Mukuro asked impatiently. "What is it that you're so certain I need _your _help with?"

"Being happy!" Gokudera snapped. "Being fucking emotionally healthy so I don't have to worry about you going off the deep end and getting yourself killed because of shit that was over and done with five years ago!"

Mukuro hissed. "You dare – ! You don't know _anything _about what happened back then – "

"Yeah, because you _won't fucking tell me!_"

"Why should I?" Mukuro asked disdainfully.

"You _bastard!_" Gokudera grabbed the collar of Mukuro's shirt and slammed him back against a tree. "Are we friends or not?!"

* * *

It would have been so easy to say "not."

It _should _have been so easy to say "not."

Instead, the honest answer rose up in Mukuro like bile and he struggled to choke it back down. Under the blazing heat of Gokudera's gaze, though, he had to look away.

"Dammit, Mukuro," Gokudera rasped, voice breaking. "Why won't you just talk to me?"

So many lies he could have said. So many evasions he could have made.

"I have no intention of talking about my past with anyone," Mukuro snarled instead, and then inwardly cursed himself for being specific when the question had been generic.

Gokudera's jaw clenched, but he ground out, "Fine. You know what? I'll drop it. On one condition." The fire in his eyes turned sharp. "If you've ever talked about it with someone else before – even the dog idiot or glasses idiot, even though they were there – I won't ask you to talk about it with me anymore. So have you?"

Mukuro gave Gokudera his coldest glare. They both knew the answer to that already. "What makes you think you have the right – "

"Because I can see it," Gokudera said, letting Mukuro go and dropping his hands to his sides, clenching them into fists with helpless frustration. "All the hatred in you. _Anyone _could see it. If you keep it pent up inside, it's like poison, and it's _hurting _you, whether you realize it or not. And I want to help you, the Tenth wants to help you, Chrome and everyone who cares about you wants to help you, but we fucking _can't _if you won't even _tell us anything!_"

Ridiculous.

What utter, ridiculous nonsense.

He should walk away right now and never look back.

But Gokudera's words were sending lances of doubt and uncertainty through him. Mukuro hated Gokudera for that, and for the fact that a small – very, _very _small – part of Mukuro was reacting to Gokudera's words with yearning.

"I don't want to talk about it," he whispered, inwardly furious at the uncontrolled, juvenile, too-revealing response, but not quite able to choke it back. Since when had Gokudera had such influence over him? Mukuro should kill him, here and now, and do everything in his power to avoid having such a lapse ever again.

"I can tell," Gokudera said, giving him a disgruntled look. Then, abruptly, he ran a hand through his hair and heaved a gusty sigh, but growled, "Come on, let's go back. I think this date is officially a bust."

Mukuro's head snapped up, incredulous. "So after pushing me so far, and saying all that, you're just giving up? Why put us both through all the trouble, then?"

"Now you know how I feel, and I know how you feel," Gokudera grumbled, giving a disaffected shrug. "Talking to you is like talking to a damn wall, so I should count myself lucky to get that much. It's not like I can force you to say anything."

They walked in silence back to Gokudera's apartment.

Mukuro spent the whole time working furiously to wrestle his emotions back under control. It had never been so difficult before. He prided himself on _always _being in control. Even when he'd given Gokudera a shred of trust last night, that had been a controlled, well-thought-out decision.

But he'd given Gokudera an inch and of course Gokudera had then tried to take him for a mile, and Mukuro was so unused to giving anyone _anything _that he'd actually been dragged along for a few feet before he'd been able to dig in his heels and back away.

He should cut off all contact now to prevent any other potential relapse. That was the rational, the _logical _decision. But –

_What does Tsuna's trust mean to you? And Chrome's? …It means a lot to you, right?_

_If you do give us your trust, we'll value it just as highly as you value ours._

_I'm speaking for Tsuna, myself, and our friends._

_I'd rather be hurt by your honesty than your lies._

_Be honest with me. Trust me. Please._

How dare you say such things to me, Mukuro thought, suppressing a snarl. How dare you say such things to me with so much warmth and worry and affection and _trust _in your eyes?

Because he did value their trust. He'd done nothing, nothing at all to deserve it – especially in Tsuna's case – and he should be mocking them for that, he tried to look as if he _were _mocking them for that, but it just made him cherish that trust all the more.

And to see Gokudera's opinion of him change so much, so quickly – in response to mere grains of honesty and trust – he couldn't help but wonder… how much more would he get, if he shared more?

But how much more would he lose control in return?

And why did he _want _more?

They ate instant ramen for dinner in tense silence. Halfway through, Gokudera's brow furrowed, he scowled, and at last he sighed, "Sorry."

Mukuro glanced up at him, raising one eyebrow.

"For snapping at you," Gokudera elaborated grudgingly. "And pushing you. I'm sorry."

Mukuro stared at him blankly, then narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

Gokudera grimaced. "I won't help anything if I try to push you," he said. "I'll just hurt you more. I lost my temper, and I shouldn't have. So… yeah. Sorry."

Mukuro considered him for a moment. Then he closed his eyes, and said quietly, "Thank you." When he opened his eyes again, he saw Gokudera looking startled. And a little annoyed. "For apologizing," Mukuro added, in case that wasn't clear.

But he was not apologizing in return.

He had nothing to apologize for.

Nothing at all.

"Can I ask you something?" Gokudera asked after a few minutes. "Without you getting pissy or sneering at me? Or dodging the question?"

"That depends on the question," Mukuro said dryly, smothering a twinge of annoyance at Gokudera's choice of words. _Pissy?_ "What is it?"

"Do you care about me? Like, as a friend? An ally? Anything at all? Or am I just some fucking toy you've become attracted to?"

Mukuro blinked at the amount of resigned bitterness in Gokudera's voice.

Then he looked away, considering the question.

Mukuro had given Gokudera some small amount of trust, that much was true. But trust wasn't quite the same thing as care, was it? One could trust an enemy to be honorable, for instance. And one could care about someone they didn't trust.

He'd never thought about it, before now. Never wanted to analyze those feelings, because he wasn't sure what he would find.

Did he care about Gokudera?

The boy Mukuro had offered comfort to on a whim, the boy who'd treated Mukuro's wounds even while disliking him, the boy who'd sobbed because he felt guilty for using Mukuro, the boy who'd tried to get Mukuro to have fun?

The man who'd looked at him with eyes that said _I'll always care about you, no matter what._

_I'll always trust you, no matter what._

Like Chrome's eyes. And Tsuna's.

But he didn't react to Chrome and Tsuna the way he reacted to Gokudera. He'd never reacted to _anyone _the way he reacted to Gokudera. He'd never slipped, never lost control because…

It had hurt that Gokudera lashed out at him.

He'd been _angry _that Gokudera would try to push him.

Why? Why should it bother him? He'd been lashed out at before, pushed before, and he'd always managed to keep his composure through it.

But enduring that from Gokudera had hurt.

_I'm not going to lie to you, Mukuro._

And he hadn't, had he? Gokudera had been straightforward and honest about everything. Even when he floundered, even when he didn't know what he wanted, even when he was snapping and snarling at every little thing.

He was crass and he acted without thinking, aggressive and overly reactionary. He was kind, and loyal, and beyond ridiculously stubborn. But when he realized he was wrong, he apologized, and learned from his mistakes.

_I'm just… worried about you._

_If you need help, I'll just fucking help!_

Mukuro… really liked that about him.

He was attracted to Gokudera.

He wanted more from Gokudera.

_I am _not _going to reject you, you stupid bastard!_

Gokudera was so easy to read. His eyes had screamed that loud and clear.

That… had made Mukuro happy. Really happy.

_Be honest with me. Trust me. Please._

Mukuro sighed heavily, closing his eyes.

I've lost, haven't I, he thought helplessly.

So much for keeping things simple.

This was why he hadn't wanted to analyze his feelings too closely.

Mukuro lifted his head. Gokudera was still looking at him, darkly expectant and angry. Mukuro gave him a resigned smile. "I do care about you," he said quietly. "As… somewhat more than a friend, I think."

Gokudera's eyes flew wide.

"…Oh," he squeaked.

Even that was cute. Unfairly cute.

"Yes," Mukuro said dryly, using humor to cover how defeated he felt as best he could. "_Oh._"

* * *

End A/Ns: So someone asked if my headcanon for Mukuro was that he was a demisexual and I knew the thing was a thing but I did not know there was a word for the thing but uh yes. My headcanon is that he's a demisexual who also needs people to trust him before he can begin to care, which is generally unfortunate because he is not remotely trustworthy so he's lucky he met Tsuna I guess.

And some people may be wondering why I haven't been including Ken and Chikusa on Mukuro's internal list of people who trust and care about him. There wasn't really a smooth way to get it into the narrative but the reason is that Mukuro is making a distinction between people who trust and care about him, and people who trust and care about him but also still have some autonomy and won't go along with any heinous act he wants them to do and whose trust and care he could potentially lose.

He has Ken and Chikusa for life no matter what, and he knows it. He appreciates that, and he does care about them a lot, but even if it's otherwise the exact same toy, you're still going to value the glass breakable thing over the plastic will-endure-forever thing. And he would have to do something pretty fucking terrible to lose them both, but it's absolutely possible for him to lose Tsuna's and Chrome's trust. Gokudera's much more easily.

They'll stop trusting a long time before they stop caring, though, I think.

(Chapter revised 7/9/13)


	9. The Fifth Day, Part 3

A/Ns: I know what you guys are thinking: needs moar sex.

I agree. ;D

* * *

To Our Mutual Benefit

Chapter 9

* * *

"Somewhat more than a friend," Gokudera repeated weakly. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"Exactly as it sounds," Mukuro replied, looking annoyed and tired. "No more and no less."

Gokudera gave himself a beat to rein his temper in. Snapping at Mukuro now would be a _bad _idea. "I'd… really like some kind of clarification, please," he said carefully.

Mukuro was quiet for a minute, and looked as if he were trying to figure out exactly what he meant, too.

"A friend I enjoy being intimate with," Mukuro said at last, "whom I might be interested in exploring the possibility of a long-term commitment with at some point in the future, but I'm not quite at that stage yet."

Friends with benefits, Gokudera translated. Almost but not quite interested in being more-than-friends with benefits. Crushing on him a little bit, in the self-aware sense of being attracted to him and knowing that that was in the process of growing into something more.

"I think… that's about where I am, too," Gokudera mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets, trying to pretend his face wasn't bright flaming red. He avoided looking at Mukuro. "With, uh… how I feel about you."

After a moment, Mukuro murmured, "I see," and stood.

Gokudera watched him approach warily. A smirk was his only warning before Mukuro had one hand on Gokudera's lower back, the other behind his head, and was pulling Gokudera tight against him, kissing him deeply.

Gokudera was almost embarrassed at how quickly his body responded, arms automatically wrapping around Mukuro's neck as the front of his jeans bulged.

"Shouldn't we," Gokudera gasped, managing to pull away from the kiss for a moment. "Shouldn't we, like, talk more? About… us?"

He could understand Mukuro's desire to put that moment of extreme vulnerability as far behind them as possible, but while not necessarily _unwelcome, _the sudden plunge into hormonal teenager territory was… disorienting.

"Oya, is there something you're not clear on?" Mukuro said before nipping at his neck.

Somehow Gokudera managed to think about it for a second, even though Mukuro grinding their hips together while nibbling his way along Gokudera's jaw was very distracting.

Friends with benefits. Maybe something more someday but he didn't have to ask to know that neither one of them was interested in thinking about that in too much detail yet. But definitely friends with benefits, and right now the benefits were pretty fucking appealing.

"Nope," Gokudera said breathlessly. "All clear."

"Excellent." Mukuro somehow managed to simultaneously strip off Gokudera's shirt and push him up onto the counter. It was a pretty low counter, so Gokudera was able to wrap his legs around Mukuro's waist and pull Mukuro in for another kiss.

Mukuro, meanwhile, was quickly undoing Gokudera's numerous belts and removing them. Within a minute Gokudera's pants and boxers were being tugged off, and Gokudera reluctantly freed Mukuro long enough for them to be discarded before drawing him in close again.

"What are your thoughts on oral sex?" Mukuro asked against Gokudera's lips, one hand idly dipping down to stroke Gokudera's erection. Gokudera groaned and tried not to be annoyed that Mukuro was still fully clothed.

"Wouldn't know what I'm doing. But uh, you, _ah, _you offering?"

"Mmhm."

"Then hell fucking yes."

Mukuro let out a soft huff of amusement, then pulled back and shifted them until Gokudera's legs were clamped behind his shoulders, his hands at the top of Gokudera's thighs to hold him steady.

"Tell me if you think you're about to come," Mukuro instructed. "If you get ejaculate in my hair, I will castrate you. With my teeth."

Gokudera swallowed dryly and nodded his agreement. He wanted to keep all his anatomy in one piece, thanks.

Mukuro smirked at him again, then dipped his head and flicked his tongue against the tip of Gokudera's cock before pressing his open lips to it. Gokudera gasped, and began breathing raggedly as Mukuro licked his way around the head. Gokudera's hips strained upwards, desperate for more, over all of him.

Mukuro, the asshole, ignored that tacit plea, instead pulling away and then bent down further. He licked under the base, his ministrations in that one spot increasing in speed and pressure until Gokudera was whimpering. Not used to that level of intense stimulation, Gokudera could already feel the pressure building higher.

When Mukuro trailed his tongue lightly up the underside of Gokudera's erection, Gokudera's body jerked and he let out a breathy whine.

"Shit, ah, Mukuro – "

Mukuro leaned back and smiled at him. If Gokudera hadn't already been slick with sweat, that sly, calculating expression would have set him perspiring all on its own.

"Sensitive, aren't you," Mukuro drawled, thumbs idly tracing Gokudera's hips. "And quick. Well, not surprising, given your inexperience."

"And you're not?" Gokudera snapped back, then regretted it because he had no fucking idea and given how well Mukuro seemed to know what he was doing – with this, and everything they'd done – Mukuro could very well have actual previous experience. Which might be a sensitive topic given that Mukuro wasn't even sixteen yet, only a few months older than Gokudera.

"Do you actually want me to answer that?" Mukuro asked, raising one eyebrow, practically confirming Gokudera's suspicions.

"N-not right now," Gokudera admitted, blushing and looking away. When Mukuro just smiled at him and didn't seem about to go back to what he'd been doing, Gokudera's brow furrowed with confusion.

"I'm waiting for you to settle down a little," Mukuro murmured, reading the expression too easily for Gokudera's comfort. He turned his head to brush a Cheshire cat smile against Gokudera's inner thigh. "Wouldn't want to end this too quickly, would we?"

That smug tone of voice did not bode well. At all.

When Gokudera's breaths had evened out a little, Mukuro began to drag his teeth lightly down the underside of Gokudera's cock. When he reached the base, he kept going, lips and tongue teasing at Gokudera's balls. The sound Gokudera made in response was beyond embarrassing and he never wanted to think about it ever again.

A few passes up and down that way was enough to have Gokudera practically mewling with stimulation, but once again, just when he was on the edge of climax, Mukuro stopped, pulled away, and smiled brightly at him.

"G-gonna kill you," Gokudera hissed, teeth clenching as the pressure dimmed and twisted into desperate, almost painful need.

"Kufufufu, I'm sure," Mukuro purred. He leaned in and began kissing and nibbling his way up Gokudera's navel, stomach, chest, neck, and finally Gokudera clamped his hands on either side of Mukuro's head and mashed their lips together.

"Mmmmukuro," Gokudera mumbled as they broke away from the kiss, both breathing hard, though Gokudera noticeably more so.

"Mmhm?"

Gokudera twined his arms around Mukuro's neck and pulled him in close, then pressed his nose into Mukuro's hair to breathe in his scent. "You smell good."

"Thank you," Mukuro replied dryly. After a moment, he pointed out, "I can't go back to sucking you off if you don't let go."

"Weren't sucking me off anyway," Gokudera grumbled.

"I'm going to," Mukuro promised in a sultry tone. When Gokudera still didn't let go, he said quietly, "Hayato?"

"Just… wanna hold you for a minute," Gokudera whispered.

Mukuro was silent for a moment, and then slowly relaxed, allowing Gokudera to pull him in closer.

Something about having Mukuro in his arms, held flush against him, had Gokudera's heart rising into his throat. Maybe because he knew Mukuro wouldn't be here for much longer, and part of him couldn't help but fear that even when he did see Mukuro next, they'd never be able to be intimate like this again.

How much of their mutual attraction was because of prolonged exposure to one another in close quarters? What if the interest faded after they didn't see each other for a while? What if Mukuro would never be real with him again?

"Hayato," Mukuro said, settling his hands on Gokudera's waist.

"What."

"You're overthinking things."

Gokudera scowled, even though Mukuro couldn't see it. "You don't even know what I'm thinking about."

"I don't need to," Mukuro replied wryly. "Whatever it is, you're overthinking it."

After another minute, Gokudera reluctantly let Mukuro draw away. Mukuro smiled at him, and pressed their foreheads together. Gokudera turned his head just enough to rub his cheek against Mukuro's, and Mukuro hummed.

"You're so cute," Mukuro said, chuckling. Gokudera made an indignant noise and leaned back to glare at him.

"Cute?!"

"Mmhm." Mukuro smirked. "The cutest." When Gokudera sputtered in protest, Mukuro just laughed softly, before bending down and taking the head of Gokudera's cock into his mouth.

Gokudera's yelp turned into a high-pitched cry as Mukuro's tongue circled around him while his lips held fast, then slowly began to work his way lower.

It took Mukuro a minute or two to work his way to the base of Gokudera's erection, slowing as he took him deeper to adjust to filling his mouth with Gokudera's length, his tongue's struggles alone driving Gokudera mad. By the time Mukuro had managed to pull Gokudera in fully, Gokudera's eyes were glazed, body shuddering, fingernails scrabbling at Mukuro's shoulders and back.

Mukuro pulled back to release half Gokudera's length, then pushed in to the base again, and twice more, and then sucked. Hard.

Gokudera spasmed, back arching, hips bucking into Mukuro's mouth as he screamed through his climax.

"Fuuuuuu_uck,_" he rasped when the pleasure finally banked and faded, slumping back against the cabinet. The world was going soupy. "That was fucking _amazing._"

"I'm glad you think so," Mukuro said as he pulled away, smiling and licking his lips.

"Should… let you have a turn…" Gokudera mumbled sleepily before promptly dozing off.

The next thing he knew, he was on the futon on his back, at least an hour or so later, given that it was now fully dark outside. His head was resting on Mukuro's thigh, and Mukuro was idly playing with Gokudera's hair as he flipped through one of his magazines, his other leg drawn up against his chest.

"Sorry," Gokudera said sheepishly, and Mukuro glanced down at him.

"Hm? About what?"

"Falling asleep," Gokudera replied. "I should have…"

"Don't worry about it," Mukuro said, looking amused.

Gokudera debated whether or not to sit up, but decided against it. Mukuro's petting felt too good.

He stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, sluggishly running through the events of the day. It had been more of an emotional rollercoaster than the first few days Mukuro had been there, when the pain of Tsuna's rejection had still be sharp and Mukuro's very presence infuriating.

Now his confession to Tsuna didn't even bother him anymore, and he didn't want Mukuro to go.

"I used to play the piano," Gokudera said quietly, almost against his will. But this moment was too soft and pure to waste. It was fine if Mukuro didn't want to talk about his own past, but Gokudera wanted to share more of himself with Mukuro.

Mukuro's eyes ticked down to him, startled.

"When I was really little, a woman would come a couple times a year to visit, and she taught me a little," Gokudera went on, gaze pinned to the ceiling, looking into the past. "I barely remember her now, but I know I really loved her. She was beautiful, and nice, and I could tell… she cared about me a lot. She died when I was three. Her car went off the road as she was on her way to visit for my birthday. Because of her… I was really into music for a while."

He took a deep breath, and let it out in a shaky rush, pushing away the anger and negativity the memories usually brought with them. "When I was eight, I overheard some of the servants talking, saying I wasn't actually the son of my father's wife, that… that woman had been my mother. For the longest time, I thought… my father had had her killed, because she was inconvenient. He's in the mafia, after all, and illegitimate kids in a mafia family…"

Mukuro made a soft sound of acknowledgement. Of course he knew. He probably knew more about the mafia than Gokudera did.

"I still kind of think that," Gokudera admitted, slinging one arm across his eyes, fingers clenched into a fist. "Sis in the future showed me letters my parents had written to each other, said that my father had offered to marry my mother but she turned him down. She said my mother was sick, and died of her illness, and that's why her car went off the road. But it's easier to stay mad at my father, and hate him, and… it hurts less that way. So… I can kind of get why you'd want to destroy the mafia. Hate makes it easier to deal with the pain. But…"

Gokudera grimaced, and lowered his arm to his chest. Mukuro was looking down at him, eyes glittering queerly.

"Sorry," Gokudera whispered, mouth twisting into a rueful, humorless smile. "It must sound so stupid, comparing my past to yours. What you went through was way worse – "

Mukuro pressed a fingertip to Gokudera's lips, silencing him.

"Just because someone else has more scars, or deeper," Mukuro murmured, "doesn't erase yours, nor the fact that they hurt."

Gokudera just looked at him, and Mukuro turned his head away.

"How much do you know about my past?" Mukuro asked, tone too neutral even for him. "I know Ken and Chikusa must have said something to Tsuna, or else he never would have sympathized with me to the extent he did the next time we met, and you wouldn't claim to know anything at all, but I never asked because it wasn't worth getting angry with them."

Gokudera's eyes widened. It had never occurred to him that Mukurodidn't know what Ken and Chikusa had told them.

And… if Mukuro was bringing this up… then…?

"From what they said, and what Reborn figured out from that… you guys were part of the Estraneo family," Gokudera said slowly. "The inventors of the Possession Bullet. After that got declared forbidden, and your family was ostracized, they… experimented on the kids to develop new weapons. Until you killed them all five years ago, and got taken in by Lancia's family."

Mukuro turned his head, not quite looking at Gokudera, and tapped two fingers beneath his red right eye. "And this? Not the abilities I gain from it, but what it is, and what it represents."

Gokudera blinked, wrinkling his forehead as he tried to remember. "Uh… the Tenth said… you had six past lives or something?"

For a few minutes, Mukuro said nothing. He just stared off into the distance, expression hooded.

Finally, his fingers began to twirl Gokudera's hair again, and he said in a cold monotone, "One of the potential weapons the Estraneo wanted to obtain were the abilities said to be associated with the Six Paths of Reincarnation. They bought the help of former Buddhist shamans and chose out the six of us with the highest aptitudes for each Realm. I was the one with the highest aptitude for the Realm of Hell, but I was also the only one with any aptitude at all for the Realm of Heaven, so that was the role I was given."

Mukuro paused, his fingers flexing broodily against Gokudera's skull, still not looking at him. Gokudera could only stare at him, eyes wide, not quite able to believe that Mukuro had given in and was actually talking about his past. He struggled past the shock to process what he was being told.

After another few minutes of silence, Mukuro's jaw clenched. He let out a soft, hissing breath, and continued.

"They… performed some kind of spell, I think, on the one assigned to the Realm of Hell in my place, and as it killed her they transferred her right eye to the next child, and so on and so forth until finally they implanted the eye in me and did the final spell to connect me to the Realm of Heaven. I… believe I was clinically dead, probably only for a few seconds, but… it felt much longer than that, and I saw…" Mukuro pursed his lips and shook his head. His expression said he was never going to share what he saw. Ever. With anyone. He finished bitterly, "…And that was how I became Mukuro Rokudo, the Six Paths Corpse."

Gokudera wondered what Mukuro's original name had been. And Ken and Chikusa's, for that matter. Himself aside, Italian kids were not generally given Japanese names. If Mukuro had taken one after everything, though, those two doing the same as a show of solidarity made sense.

"What they saw was engraved in me as well," Mukuro went on after another minute of silence, lifting one hand to his right eye. "The ones who died. I carry the weight of their hatred, as well as my own. And I always will."

He dropped his hand, and finally looked down at Gokudera.

Gokudera went rigid and inhaled sharply. The look in Mukuro's eyes, the sheer amount of burning, black hatred he saw there, was like nothing human.

"Are you satisfied now, Gokudera Hayato?"

Gokudera swallowed past a desert-dry throat. Somehow, he managed to pull himself up into a sitting positing, and turned so that he was facing Mukuro.

Mukuro's eyes never left him, and his expression never changed, but Gokudera could tell he expected to be rejected, reacted to with horror, treated like a monster.

Damn stupid bastard.

Gokudera reached over and gently used both hands to brush Mukuro's hair out of his face. He repeated the motion, over and over, eventually moving closer until their faces were bare inches apart, and he could shift his hands around to massage Mukuro's skull the way he had last night.

His fingers brushed against the hair clips, but the dangerous light in Mukuro's eyes warned him not to pull them out this time. Instead, he worked around them, gently scratching and caressing.

Mukuro's face still hadn't changed, but Gokudera could practically feel the expectation of rejection wavering and uncertainly beginning to dim. His breathing was gradually becoming more ragged and shaky.

Finally, Gokudera brought his hands forward, resting his palms below Mukuro's ears and stroking Mukuro's cheeks with his thumbs.

Slowly and deliberately, Gokudera said, "That… sounds like it fucking _sucked._"

Mukuro's eyes finally softened, and Gokudera bent in and kissed him.

After a moment, Mukuro's arms wrapped around Gokudera. When they finally pulled away from the kiss, Mukuro leaned forward to bury his face in Gokudera's shoulder, clinging to him like a lifeline.

* * *

End A/Ns: My headcanons for the Six Paths eye, let me show you them. 8D;;;

And I fucking swear, I need to work all day tomorrow and Thursday. I will not let this distract me anymore. Nope. Not gonna happen. Not touching this again until Friday or all the shit is done, whichever comes first.

(Chapter revised 7/9/13)

Revision A/Ns: I suppose I could have included removing my moaning and groaning about the shit I had to get done that almost didn't happen as I'm revising TOMB, but of course I think I'm hilarious so I'ma keep 'em. 8D


	10. The Sixth Day

A/Ns: GODDAMMIT

* * *

To Our Mutual Benefit

Chapter 10

* * *

"Mukuro."

One hand stroked his hair, while the other lightly traced up and down Mukuro's spine.

"Come on, man, wake up. I've got school today."

Mukuro's eyes twitched before slowly opening.

He was lying face-down on top of Gokudera, his arms twined tightly around the other boy's neck, his legs on either side of Gokudera's pinning him down, their cheeks flush against one another. Their hips were pressed together, so Mukuro could clearly tell that Gokudera had woken with morning wood.

"You are so fucking clingy in your sleep," Gokudera grumbled softly. "How do your flunkies ever deal with you?"

"I don't generally share a bed with anyone," Mukuro replied, making Gokudera twitch with surprise. He hadn't realized Mukuro was awake, then. "And they know better than to wake me unless it's an emergency."

"I'd let you sleep in if you weren't fucking pinning me," Gokudera huffed. "Get off."

"Mmhm." Mukuro rubbed against Gokudera's crotch, making the Storm guardian gasp. "Want me to do something about that?"

"Shit. Don't tempt me." Gokudera pushed at Mukuro until Mukuro finally let go and rolled off of him. "I need to get ready for school, and you don't sound fully awake anyway. I'll just jack off in the shower."

"Mmhm." Mukuro rolled onto his side and dozed off, only vaguely aware of Gokudera giving his hair one last caress. They'd become very physically demonstrative with one another, he noted sleepily.

Remembering he had something else to say, Mukuro managed to regain consciousness just as Gokudera was getting ready to leave. "Hayato."

Gokudera paused and looked over at him. "Yeah?"

"I'll be leaving tomorrow."

Gokudera stilled. "…Okay."

If he said anything more, Mukuro didn't hear him, already asleep once more.

He slept most of the day, keeping in contact with Ken, for the most part. Ken and M.M. had managed to get themselves into a bit of trouble. They didn't work well together, and Mukuro wouldn't have paired them up, except Chikusa and Chrome were better with Fran and that child was the one who needed the most extra supervision.

When that was settled to the best of his ability, he used a vessel to meet with Verde. Mukuro didn't get along with the former Lightning Arcobaleno at all, but unfortunately they had several mutual interests and their needs and means meshed well. And Verde was also one of the most useful sources of information Mukuro had at his disposal, and vice-versa, so it was worthwhile to stay in one anothers' good graces.

The other errands he had to run had to be done in person, so they would need to wait until he was physically back in Italy.

Mukuro returned to his body in Gokudera's apartment to find himself being shaken roughly by the other boy. It was already late afternoon.

"Fucking finally," Gokudera said when Mukuro sat up and yawned. "I thought you were in a coma or something."

"I was meeting with Professor Verde," Mukuro said absently as he stood and stretched. Gokudera stared at him, and Mukuro raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Would you be able to… like, meet with me? While you're in Italy?" Gokudera asked tentatively.

Mukuro blinked, and then smiled. "Occupying a vessel is draining and I'd prefer not to waste the energy unless it's necessary. But since _you're _one of my potential vessels," he went on when Gokudera looked disappointed, "if we're both asleep and you let me in, I can talk to you that way."

"Could we try that tonight? Just to see if it works?" Gokudera asked.

"Sure, if you'd like." Mukuro certainly wasn't going to complain about strengthening the mental link between himself and Gokudera. Particularly if that meant he could possess the stupid reckless boy from anywhere to get him out of trouble if necessary –

And how far had he fallen that _that _was the first thing he considered. Sigh.

It was nicer than he'd thought it would be, though. Someone who lived in the light (comparatively), that he'd shown the full extent of his darkness to, whom still accepted him, cared for him, wanted to stay beside him.

"Get dressed," Gokudera told him abruptly, and Mukuro glanced at him. "I asked Turf Head if he'd take a look at your ankle and ribs. He's not great at using his Sun Flames to heal yet, but it should make international travel a little easier on you, anyway."

Owe a favor to Sasagawa Ryohei? Allow himself to be _touched _by Sasagawa Ryohei? No. Definitely not. Absolutely not.

Much to Mukuro's disgruntlement, Gokudera was able to bully him into cleaning up, getting dressed, and walking to the Sasagawa residence. As Mukuro had expected, Ryohei's exuberant stupidity was exhausting and _extremely _(ugh) annoying, bur he had to grudgingly admit that his cracked ribs and especially his ankle were in much better condition afterwards.

As Mukuro and Gokudera walked back to Gokudera's apartment, their hands brushed against each other by chance, and Gokudera's pinky hooked around Mukuro's.

Mukuro slid a sideways glance at Gokudera. The shorter boy was staring dead ahead, mouth compressed, cheeks bright red.

Mukuro let out a soft huff of amusement – Gokudera blushed harder – and then twined their fingers together.

He didn't particularly mean anything by the gesture. He'd come to enjoy the shows of physical affection between them, and Gokudera was clearly feeling anxious about Mukuro's imminent departure.

Mukuro would make no promises as to whether or not their relationship would advance, but he wanted to reassure Gokudera that it wouldn't regress, either.

They'd almost reached Gokudera's apartment when Tsuna abruptly appeared around the corner, spotted them, and brightened.

"Gokudera-kun! I wanted to talk to you more about that thing you suggested – "

Tsuna cut off as he noticed the hand-holding, blinking with startled confusion.

Gokudera dropped Mukuro's hand instantly. Mukuro slashed a dark look at Gokudera, who refused to meet his eyes.

"Oh, uh, sure thing, Tenth," Gokudera said, laughing awkwardly and rubbing the back of his head before jogging over to Tsuna. "You go on up, Mukuro, I'll be there in a bit," he called over his shoulder without quite looking at Mukuro.

Mukuro stared at them both coolly, and then gave them a false smile. "Certainly. It was good to see you again, Sawada Tsunayoshi. Pass my thanks to your mother for her hospitality the other day."

"Um, yeah, sure," Tsuna stammered, looking back and forth between Gokudera and Mukuro.

Mukuro proceeded up to Gokudera's apartment, frowning, wondering what it was Gokudera wanted to speak with Tsuna about without Mukuro overhearing. And about Gokudera's reaction upon seeing Tsuna.

He supposed he could understand Gokudera not wanting Tsuna to think there was anything between them, but that didn't prevent it from rankling that Gokudera had dropped Mukuro's hand with so much haste and panic when he'dbeen the one to initiate that contact in public in the first place.

It didn't help that it took almost half an hour for Gokudera to finally return – with another care package homemade dinner from the Sawadas, which was somewhat mollifying but not enough so.

"Sorry about that," Gokudera said with a forced grin, still avoiding eye contact. "There was, uh…" He hesitated. "Something important I had to talk to the Tenth about. But he brought food," he added hopefully, holding up the bundle as if it were a peace offering.

Mukuro inclined his head but said nothing. Gokudera stood uncertainly for a moment, then grimaced and went about setting up the table for dinner.

They ate in silence, until about halfway through, Mukuro decided to give Gokudera a break and enlighten him.

"Just so you know," he murmured. "I have no intention to agreeing to anything long-term, whether on our current level or more advanced, if secrecy is to be an aspect of it."

Gokudera almost choked. "That's what you're upset about?" he asked incredulously.

Mukuro gave him an odd look. "You thought I objected to your plotting something with Sawada Tsunayoshi that you want to keep from me? I don't mind that. I certainly don't intend to share all my plans with you."

Gokudera scowled. "What was that you were just saying about _secrecy?_"

"I was referring to the concealment of our relationship," Mukuro said primly. "Whatever we do with one another, we're still autonomous individuals with our own lives."

Gokudera's mouth twisted. "So, what, you'd seriously tell your flunkies, hey, just so you know, I'm dating the Vongola Tenth's right-hand man?"

"Yes," Mukuro replied. Keep information from them that would allow them to better judge Mukuro's best interests? Allow the chance for someone else to control how and when they gained that information, potentially at a time that would cause them to falter in battle? Ridiculous. Of course he would tell them.

Gokudera stared at him, eyes wide. "…Oh." He squirmed uncomfortably, face flushed once more. "Uh… then… yeah, if… if we do, um, go out with each other, I'd… I'd tell the Tenth. I wouldn't go out of my way to tell anyone else," he added firmly, "but I wouldn't hide it, either."

"Good."

Mukuro was just about to take his next bite of food when Gokudera ventured, sounding uncharacteristically shy and vulnerable, "So… do… do you want to, then? Um… go out with me?"

Mukuro paused, and set the food down.

"Fuck, what am I saying," Gokudera went on quickly, forcing a grin and a laugh as he looked anywhere but at Mukuro, radiating something close to panic. "Of course not, we're just talking hypothetically. We already decided we didn't want to do anything more right now. Yesterday. It's… it's not like I… I mean…"

As Gokudera had been rushing through his words, Mukuro had calmly set aside his dinner, stood, and walked over to where Gokudera leaned against the counter. Gentle but firm, he used thumb and forefinger to grab Gokudera's chin and force him to meet his eyes. Gokudera abruptly stopped talking, expression almost painfully fragile.

"Let's talk about it when I get back, Hayato," Mukuro said. Gokudera swallowed and looked away.

"W-when you get back… right… whenever that happens…"

"Two weeks," Mukuro supplied helpfully.

Gokudera looked blank for a second. Then his eyes widened, and he went beet red, with temper as much as self-conscious embarrassment.

"Two – if you already knew you were going to be back that fast, say so sooner!" Gokudera snapped, bristling and trying to wrench away. Mukuro held firm, and leaned his free hand on the counter behind Gokudera so as to better trap him there.

Gokudera subsided, and he looked up at Mukuro with a raw, vulnerable expression, transparent enough for Mukuro to see most of what was going through his mind.

Relief that Mukuro would be back soon. Uncertainty because he wasn't sure what to think about being that relieved. Frustration and annoyance that Mukuro hadn't told him sooner, and embarrassment from his bringing up the subject of dating. Fear that things would change between himself and Mukuro, either for better or worse, and that said changes would hurt. Worry, presumably about Mukuro's safety.

"You're overthinking things again, Hayato," Mukuro said softly, releasing Gokudera's chin to tuck strands of silver behind his ear. Gokudera let out a shuddering breath as Mukuro gently cupped his cheek, then bent in to kiss him.

Gokudera accepted the kiss but pulled away from it quickly, fingers digging into Mukuro's shirt as he buried his head in Mukuro's shoulder, breathing deeply.

Seeking solace, but not of the sexual variety, Mukuro interpreted, so he wrapped his arms around Gokudera.

"Fuck," Gokudera rasped at last, hold on Mukuro tightening. "What the hell are you even doing to me, you damn bastard."

"I could say the same about you, you know," Mukuro reminded him, beginning to stroke Gokudera's hair.

Gokudera sighed and melted against him. The tension bled out of him, and he nuzzled at Mukuro's shoulder like a cat. His hands released the front of Mukuro's shirt and dipped down to curl around Mukuro's waist before tentatively settling on Mukuro's ass.

Mukuro snorted but said nothing, only humming encouragement when Gokudera rubbed against him. A movement that started out innocent and gentle, then sparked friction between their hips.

So much for non-sexual solace, Mukuro thought with amusement as the motion became less rubbing and more humping.

Mukuro let Gokudera carry on for a moment, but after a particularly hard grind of the bulge in Gokudera's pants against Mukuro's, he settled his hands firmly on Gokudera's hips to still him. Gokudera growled.

"I want to take a shower," Mukuro said, pushing Gokudera back and stepping away. "I haven't been able to stand up long enough to get myself properly clean for a _week._"

"But if you take a shower, you're not going to want to have sex after," Gokudera complained. "Since you'll be clean, and sex is… messy."

"Mmhm."

Gokudera sulked as he followed Mukuro into the bedroom, then brightened. "We could have sex _in _the shower."

Mukuro considered that. "I suppose we could," he allowed, smiling.

They proceeded into the bathroom, stripped down, and Mukuro took the clips out of his hair, running his fingers through it to smooth it out. When Gokudera's fingers tentatively joined his there, Mukuro smiled at him and dropped his own hands, enjoying the caresses.

"You really like this, huh," Gokudera observed, smirking as Mukuro leaned into the massaging fingers.

"Mmhm," Mukuro agreed blissfully. After a moment, he reluctantly pulled away, and they stepped into the shower.

It was a very _small _shower, and it barely fit two people, but the forced close proximity was all the better for shower sex.

Mukuro turned the water on, asking over his shoulder, "Did you have anything particular in mind?"

Gokudera shrugged, then coiled his arms around Mukuro's waist and rested his cheek against Mukuro's back, rubbing up against him more innocently again despite his erection caught between them.

"I just want to touch you," Gokudera admitted. "Since I won't be able to for a while, after tomorrow."

"Kufufu, I see." Mukuro let Gokudera just hold onto him, washing his hair in the meantime.

After a moment, Gokudera's hands started exploring. Nothing sexual – just moving slowly around Mukuro's torso, from navel to chest to shoulders, down his sides to run over his hips. Mukuro relaxed into Gokudera's touch.

Gokudera's hands dipped lower, paused, and then drew back up.

"Go ahead," Mukuro told him.

"I don't know what you like," Gokudera mumbled in a rush against Mukuro's back. Mukuro snorted softly.

"You won't find out if you don't experiment," Mukuro pointed out.

"Yeah, but…" Gokudera fidgeted. "You just… seemed to know the right things to do." He hesitated, and then went on, "You don't have to answer if you don't want, but – "

"I have a little previous experience," Mukuro said, anticipating the question. "I'm not above using my body as a tool to manipulate others, and I hit puberty early. But most of what I know I picked up from reading erotica and watching porn. For research purposes," he added disapprovingly when Gokudera choked. "I won't deny I used them as intended as well, but my libido isn't as active as yours."

Gokudera was silent for a moment, and then asked self-consciously, "Is that weird?"

Mukuro smothered a laugh. "I assure you, from what I can tell, you're quite normal for a teenaged boy," he said dryly. "I'm the one who's weird, not you."

"Already knew that much," Gokudera said acerbically. Then, after a beat of hesitation, his hands descended again.

Gokudera's fingers traced up and down Mukuro's length tentatively, and Mukuro made encouraging noises to coax him along. Gokudera ended up deciding to lightly grip Mukuro's cock as his thumb rubbed back and forth roughly, his free hand exploring Mukuro's corresponding hip and inner thigh, and Mukuro let out a soft, half-moaning sigh of approval.

"Hey, Mukuro?" Gokudera said, continuing his ministrations.

"Yes?"

"Would you… this is going to sound so weird," Gokudera groaned, sounding annoyed. Mukuro waited. "Could you just… talk to me?"

Mukuro blinked. "About what?"

"Anything," Gokudera mumbled, abashed. "I… just want to listen to you talk. While I touch you."

"Alright," Mukuro agreed indulgently. "I'd like some direction to start off from, though."

Gokudera huffed, and went quiet, in the meantime shifting his hand upward so that his thumb caressed the head of Mukuro's erection. Mukuro purred, pushing his hips forward for more friction.

Since Gokudera had still said nothing, Mukuro turned his head enough to slant a look at Gokudera over his shoulder, wanting to pick up the additional visual cues that would help him figure out just what was running through Gokudera's head.

Gokudera's brow was furrowed, and he was just staring at Mukuro's back, expression heavy. The fragility was still in his eyes, Mukuro realized.

Mukuro turned fully towards Gokudera, causing the Storm guardian's head to snap up, a look of startled confusion on his face which only intensified when Mukuro wrapped one arm around his waist to pull them flush against one another while he used his other hand to grab Gokudera's chin, more forcefully than he had before.

"Why are you so off-balance tonight?" Mukuro asked, half-annoyed, half-baffled. "I've told you I don't mind if you don't tell me what you're plotting with Sawada Tsunayoshi, I've told you I'll be back in two weeks, I've told you I want to discuss our relationship further when I return, I've told you you're overthinking things, and I've told you, if not in so many words, that I've lost to you as much as you have to me. But you're still acting timid and lack confidence. What's wrong? _You _talk to _me, _Hayato."

There was a flash of temper in Gokudera's eyes and he snapped, "I'm worried about you, okay?! I have no idea what the fuck you're about to go off and get yourself into, and after – after last night – "

Mukuro went rigid.

Gokudera's temper faded and he looked away, expression conflicted, before going on in an almost anguished tone of voice, "I'm worried… I'm _scared _that no matter what I do, no matter how things go between us, that… you'll always hate the mafia more than you like me, or any of us. And I just… I want to change that. And I don't know how."

All desire for sex gone, Mukuro pushed Gokudera away. Gokudera shot him a stunned, wounded look, then looked away again, helpless anger and bitterness in his eyes.

"I'll let you finish your shower," Gokudera whispered hoarsely, and stepped out.

Mukuro watched him go, and then turned his face up into the water, brooding.

He could understand that desire. He could even appreciate it. He was happy that Gokudera wanted such a thing.

But he could not allow it to happen.

* * *

End A/Ns: I was just rereading the first chapter again and oh my god I said _I can't promise this will be a long fic _and here I am eleven days and 30,000 words later writing a goddamn novella fuck everything

THIS ESCALATED VERY QUICKLY

(Chapter revised 7/9/13)

Revision A/Ns: Part of me wanted to edit so that this chapter actually had a full sex scene, but after rereading it I decided I liked it the way it is. It works better for the plot, and it better demonstrates that they're still feeling each other out at this point (no pun intended ;D). Besides, I really like a diverse array of sexual interactions between characters. :3


	11. The Seventh Day

A/Ns: I GOT THE SHIT DONE

IT IS SHIT

BUT IT IS DONE

sorry this is short you can blame the shit

* * *

To Our Mutual Benefit

Chapter 11

* * *

The whole rest of the evening, Gokudera cursed himself for saying that much to Mukuro. What had he been expecting? Even if they'd come a long way in a week, Mukuro _did _still hate the mafia more than he liked anyone or anything, so of course he would reject any direct overture to change that.

It was a bad idea the same reason confessing to Tsuna had been a bad idea, Gokudera told himself angrily. It was possible to be _too _honest, and drive away the people he cared about.

Things between himself and Tsuna seemed to have recovered, for the most part. But they were best friends, and Tsuna was a much, _much _more forgiving person than Mukuro. And even so it had taken them a week to get back on stable ground; Gokudera only had until tomorrow to patch things up with Mukuro.

Assuming Mukuro was willing to let him.

When Mukuro emerged from the shower, he ignored the few stuttering, half-hearted attempts Gokudera made to start a conversation. Eventually Gokudera gave up, disheartened, and worked on his homework. Mukuro sprawled on the futon and read while listening to music, presumably using the headphones as a way to discourage interaction.

When Gokudera finally came to bed, Mukuro simply put the book and CD player aside and rolled over, making room without looking at him.

Unable to just leave things like that without making one last attempt, Gokudera bent over him, and, heart in his throat, tentatively kissed Mukuro on the cheek.

Mukuro glanced at him, and Gokudera hoped he wasn't imagining the softening in Mukuro's eyes.

But Mukuro said and did nothing, so Gokudera reluctantly lay down back-to-back with him, feeling utterly miserable.

When he finally managed to fall asleep, he dreamed of playing piano with his mother. In the dream he was a few years older than he had been when she died, but his mind didn't care about real world logic and he just basked in the happiness of sitting side-by-side with her on the piano bench, playing the song she'd taught him so long ago.

At some point it shifted into being more of a lucid dream, leaving Gokudera aware that he was dreaming and with more clarity than he was ever used to having while asleep, but he didn't want to overthink it and lose the bubble of happiness he'd managed to obtain, even if just in his sleep.

Unfortunately, he wasn't able to fully maintain it – not moments after he gained the near-wakeful level of alert control, his mother disappeared.

Gokudera grimaced, but kept playing the piano anyway. It had been so long… and it wasn't like there was anyone here to see hi –

No. No way. After what had happened, Mukuro wouldn't have upheld the agreement to try and talk to each other while asleep tonight, would he?

"I'm not going to be able to stay if your subconscious fights my presence, Hayato," a familiar voice said behind him disapprovingly.

Ah, fuck.

Gokudera looked up over his shoulder, glaring hotly at Mukuro.

Looked _way _up.

Frowning, Gokudera looked back down at himself, holding out his hands. Yep. Still looked about six years old. Shit.

"How do I go back to normal?" he asked, agitated.

"It's your dream world," Mukuro said primly. "You figure it out." He sat down on the bench next to Gokudera, but facing away from the piano and staring off into the distance, lost in dark thoughts.

Gokudera struggled to try and make his body look the way it should, but after a few minutes of nothing happening he just gave up. He glanced over at Mukuro, wondering at his chances of getting advice if he asked for it.

Not very good at the moment, probably.

Gokudera stared down at the piano again. More to soothe his own heart than anything else, he started to play again, this time the piano version of an Italian pop song he knew, though it was from ten years ago.

He was a few bars in when Mukuro started quietly singing along.

Gokudera froze, and when the music stopped, Mukuro's voice cut off. Gokudera stared up at him, but Mukuro didn't even glance his way.

Tentatively, Gokudera began the song again. When he reached the beginning of the vocals, Mukuro joined in once more.

Mukuro was a really good singer, Gokudera was stunned to realize as he played. Yeah, he'd known that Mukuro's regular speaking voice was deep and rich and well controlled, but just because someone sounded good while talking didn't necessarily mean they could sing.

Mukuro definitely could.

When they finally finished the song, Gokudera lowered his hands and turned to stare at Mukuro again.

"I didn't know you could sing," he said, unable to think of anything more clever to say.

Mukuro shrugged, still not so much as sliding his eyes in Gokudera's direction. "You never asked."

Gokudera scowled at him, but after a moment, he began to play another song and asked hesitantly, "Do you know this one?"

Mukuro nodded, and once again sang along.

It had been years since Gokudera last touched a piano, so there weren't many well-known songs he could play, and Mukuro didn't know all the ones he did have. But Gokudera played all the ones Mukuro admitted he knew, and Mukuro sang along every time.

When Gokudera had finally exhausted his repertoire, he turned around on the bench to face the same direction Mukuro was, and looked up at him, heart aching with hope.

Mukuro finally looked down to meet his eyes, and smiled.

"You were a very cute child, Hayato," he said warmly, brushing the hair out of Gokudera's face. Gokudera blushed, but couldn't bring himself to look away.

"Mukuro… about – "

Mukuro placed a finger against Gokudera's lips to silence him.

"Thank you," Mukuro said, and Gokudera's eyes widened. "I do appreciate your feelings, Hayato." He paused, sighed, and went on, "I have no desire whatsoever for that part of me to change, but when I get back, we can negotiate for the option to give you the chance to try, if you like."

Wait. Negotiate with _what?_

"Clarification?" Gokudera pressed. He couldn't mean what Gokudera thought he meant, could he? Because the only thing he could think of that made sense was negotiating _dating _terms.

Mukuro smirked. "You have a brain. Use it."

"Jerk," Gokudera grumbled.

Mukuro chuckled, then wrapped an arm around Gokudera's shoulder. Almost despite himself, Gokudera snuggled into the contact, resting his head against Mukuro's side. Small as his body was in this dream world, it made being held by Mukuro, even just halfway like this, all the more comforting.

"You _will_ still come talk to me like this after you leave, right?" Gokudera asked after a moment. "And whenever you're not around?" After all, even if Mukuro would be back in two weeks, there was no saying how long he'd stay for.

Hopefully everything would be ready by then.

"I don't know how often," Mukuro said slowly, "but yes, I'll drop in on you like this from time to time, so long as you're willing to let me in."

"Good."

Gokudera pressed himself closer to Mukuro, one small hand fisting in Mukuro's shirt. He closed his eyes and drifted off to the sensation of Mukuro stroking his hair.

When he woke up, he was alone on the futon. Mukuro's things and the duffle bag Gokudera had used to carry them from Kokuyo Land were gone.

He _wouldn't._

Gokudera lunged to his feet and bolted out the bedroom door, stumbling to a halt when he saw Mukuro leaning against the kitchen counter and idly examining his fingernails, duffle bag by his feet. He glanced up when Gokudera burst into the room and quirked an eyebrow.

"Oya, you didn't really think I'd leave without saying goodbye, did you?" Mukuro asked, lips twitching into an amused smile. "That would be very rude of me, wouldn't it?"

"Fuck you," Gokudera snapped, struggling to hide how alarmed he'd been and failing miserably, judging by the smug way Mukuro was looking at him.

"Alas, I don't think we have time for that," Mukuro said cheerfully, and Gokudera snarled.

Then, Mukuro's smile became more genuinely warm, and he said, "Thank you, Hayato. For everything."

Gokudera's annoyance faded away, and instead he found himself wrapping his arms around Mukuro's back and holding on for all he was worth, face buried against Mukuro's chest. Mukuro's arms circled around Gokudera's shoulders in return, leaning his cheek against Gokudera's hair.

"This is all your fault, you bastard," Gokudera mumbled, voice muffled by Mukuro's shirt.

"My apologies," Mukuro said drolly. "If you feel that way, I'll refrain from offering you comfort in the future, shall I?"

"If you actually mean that I'll fucking clobber you."

"Did I sound as if I actually meant it?"

The damn bastard was laughing at him. Not out loud, but Gokudera could tell. And yet for some reason that just made Gokudera hold on tighter.

For a few minutes, they just stood like that. Gokudera listened to Mukuro's heartbeat, felt the rise and fall of his chest, his breath stirring Gokudera's hair.

"Hayato," Mukuro said, sounding affectionately amused, comforting hands stroking up and down Gokudera's back. "It's only two weeks."

"Shut up. Still gonna miss you. And who knows what sort of dangerous shit you'll get yourself into," Gokudera said grouchily. He felt self-conscious enough about clinging to Mukuro like this already without Mukuro rubbing it in.

"I'm a little bit insulted at your lack of faith in my ability to take care of myself," Mukuro said.

Gokudera finally drew back, though he still rested his hands on Mukuro's waist. Mukuro, in turn, draped his arms over Gokudera's shoulders, wrists curled inwards to stroke the back of his neck.

"You're right," Gokudera said, smirking. "Worse comes to worst, you can just turn into a body-hopping ghost like that asshole Daemon Spade."

Mukuro's expression went flat. "If you ever want to have sex with me again, you will not compare me to that man."

"If _you _ever want to have sex with me again, you won't get pissy with me just because I worry about you," Gokudera retorted.

"I don't get _pissy,_" Mukuro said, looking grumpy. "You just can't take constructive criticism."

"Uh-huh, yeah, sure."

They smiled at each other.

Mukuro's hands moved to Gokudera's face as Gokudera's arms curled around Mukuro's neck, and they kissed. A warm, deep, passionate kiss, that went on for several minutes before they finally parted.

Mukuro ducked his head to nuzzle at Gokudera's cheek, kissed him again lightly, and then drew away.

"I'll see you in two weeks, Hayato," Mukuro said.

"Yeah." As Mukuro turned to go, Gokudera hesitated, and then said, "Mukuro?"

Mukuro glanced over his shoulder at him. "Yes?"

Gokudera grinned.

"When you get back, will you go on a date with me?"

* * *

End A/Ns: I know image songs aren't exactly "canon," but it has always been my personal headcanon that they are accurate indicators of how well a character can or can't sing. So yeah, Mukuro can totally sing. :3

Oh, and hey guys. Guess what.

One more chapter.

8D

(Probably.)

(I haven't written it yet so I'm not positive I'll be able to wrap it all up in one chapter.)

(But that is currently the plan.)

(Chapter revised 7/9/13)


	12. Two Weeks Later

To Our Mutual Benefit

Chapter 12

* * *

_Two weeks later…_

"I'm asleep on the plane right now, so I don't know what our exact time of arrival will be," Mukuro said, reclining on the piano bench, resting his head in Gokudera's lap. "But I imagine we'll be back in Namimori about ten in the morning, your time."

"If you're sleeping on the plane, why are you acting lazy here?" Gokudera demanded, frowning down at him. After the first time, he'd managed to appear his proper age in his dream space, which had yet to shift overly much from the sunny mansion room with the piano it had begun as.

Mukuro smiled indolently at him. "I find it an amusing contrast to how jittery you are," he replied. "What's the surprise waiting for me, I wonder?"

Gokudera stiffened. "Who told you?!"

"Hayato." Mukuro's eyebrows rose. "No one told me. You're just being amazingly transparent, as usual." Gokudera being high-strung – more so than usual – radiating a mix of excitement and nerves, impatience bleeding over, hedging about his plans for the day and refusing to meet Mukuro's eyes; what else could it mean, but that he was anticipating something to do with Mukuro, that he didn't want Mukuro to know?

Gokudera blinked, and then scowled. "You're going to teach me that body feedback stuff," he grumbled.

"Maybe." Mukuro sat up, stretched, and leaned his forehead against Gokudera's, smirking. "Your being transparent is entertaining, convenient, and cute. Give me one good reason why I should teach you opacity."

Gokudera gave him a flat look before pulling his head away. "What have I said about calling me _cute?_"

Mukuro flapped one hand dismissively. "Fine. Entertaining, convenient, and kittenishly charming."

"Kittenishly," Gokudera repeated, looking distinctly unamused.

"Kittenishly," Mukuro agreed cheerfully.

Gokudera growled.

"Don't be _pissy_," Mukuro said, too sweetly.

"Fuck you."

"Three more hours, darling." Mukuro paused, thought about it. "Four. I need to make sure the others are settled in at Kokuyo Land before I go visit you."

"It's fine, I'll meet you at Kokuyo Land," Gokudera said quickly, eyes getting shifty again.

Mukuro quirked an eyebrow. "Are you that desperate for sex? You managed to survive fifteen years without me, Gokudera Hayato. You can't wait an extra hour?"

"That's not it," Gokudera retorted, giving him an exasperated look. "It's… to give you your surprise," he said, grimacing.

Mukuro tilted his head quizzically. "You don't mind giving it to me in front of the others?"

"No," Gokudera replied, scratching the back of his head and looking as if he were wondering how much to say. "It's… sort of for them too. I guess."

Mukuro blinked. Interesting.

Smiling, he draped himself over Gokudera's shoulders, nuzzling Gokudera's temple. "Give me a hint~?"

"No way. You'll figure it out, and I want it to be a surprise."

Mukuro gauged whether or not it was worth trying to pry an answer out, decided it wasn't, and sat back again with a sigh. "Very well. I won't give you any hints about the surprise I have for _you, _then."

Gokudera's head snapped towards him, eyes wide. "You… got me something…?"

"In a manner of speaking," Mukuro drawled. "I'll give you a hint about yours if you give me one for mine."

Gokudera's expression instantly became stubborn again. "No."

"Alright, alright." Spinning around on the bench so he could lean back against Gokudera, Mukuro drew one leg up to his chest and stretched the other out. "Have you told anyone yet? About our… understanding?"

"Is that what we're calling it?" Gokudera asked, skeptical. Mukuro shrugged.

"We have a date set for when I get back, we've clearly proven that distance makes the heart grow fonder, and yet you refuse to discuss further developments unless it's in person so I can't call it a relationship yet without you being _pissy._"

"Stop using that damn word."

Mukuro ignored the interruption, holding up his stretched out leg to stare at his toenails. He walked barefoot in dream spaces, generally. "Friendship is too mild a descriptor for it, of course, and I can't say relationship, so what else should I call it?"

"Friends with benefits?"

"Too much of a mouthful."

Gokudera thought about it for a second. "Fuck buddies?"

"Absolutely not." Mukuro put his leg back down and looked over his shoulder to smile at Gokudera. "Maybe I should refer to you as my boy-toy? That was M.M.'s suggestion."

Gokudera choked. "You _told _them?!"

"I told you I was going to."

"You said you'd tell them if we were dating. We're not."

"Yet."

"It doesn't fucking matter _yet_, we're still not!"

"They know that," Mukuro said, turning around to face Gokudera fully to enjoy the sight of the Storm guardian bristling. "I was very precise when informing them as to the nature of our relationship."

Gokudera hissed at him.

"Don't be _pissy._"

"You say pissy one more fucking time and we'll be having a conversation about pineapples."

Mukuro's jaw clicked shut, and he glared at Gokudera disapprovingly. "You know how I feel about that word."

"And now you know how I feel about _pissy. _I'm sorry I ever called you that, okay? Just let it fucking go already. You've been using it nonstop for the last two damn weeks."

Mukuro settled back, satisfied. "If you insist. But you never answered my question. Have you or have you not told – " He tilted his head, listening. "Is that your alarm? You said you were taking the day off from school. Why do you have it set so ear – "

Suddenly he was alone in the dream space. Mukuro pursed his lips, then returned to his own mind. He'd have all the answers soon enough.

He allowed himself to wake up on the plane, and yawned.

"How's your boyfriend, master?" Fran immediately asked him. He had the middle seat between Mukuro and Ken. Though he didn't look away from staring out the window, Ken growled.

"Don't be cheeky, little one," Mukuro scolded absently. He had no intention of allowing Fran to be disrespectful towards himself and have it go unremarked (towards anyone else was fine, but not Mukuro himself), but not much of what the boy said truly bothered him anymore.

Partially because after acquiring blackmail-worthy photos, Mukuro had begun threatening to e-mail them to Belphegor whenever Fran stepped too far out of bounds. It worked, for the most part. The most annoying comments had been curbed somewhat, at least.

Also, no matter what he did, Mukuro still found Fran to be less annoying than Byakuran. Talking to that man had been a pain. It was fortunate Mukuro had been able to direct most of his side of the conversation to Yuni.

After they arrived in Japan, when they were perhaps a twenty minute walk away from Kokuyo Land, Mukuro finally remembered to alert the others, "By the way, Hayato said he'll be meeting us there."

"What's he doing that for?" Ken asked belligerently. Chikusa and Chrome had accepted the state of things between Mukuro and Gokudera relatively quickly, M.M. had been upset and annoyed but hadn't taken too long to come to terms with it, and Fran didn't seem to care at all except that it gave him more material for mockery, but Ken was still visibly affronted.

"He said he had a surprise for all of us," Mukuro said, not reacting to the tone. Ken needed to vent his frustrations somehow, and speaking only a little more antagonistically than usual was an acceptable way for him to do that, so Mukuro allowed it to pass without comment.

"And we're just going to accept a present from the Vongola?" Ken grumbled.

"Indeed we are," Mukuro replied, raising his eyebrows. "And you already know why."

Ken reluctantly subsided.

It really was quite fortunate that Mukuro had been able to introduce his relationship with Gokudera and the information he'd gained from the future in the same conversation. That had likely helped the others to accept it much more readily.

As they approached the gates to Kokuyo Land, they slowed and stopped as they took in what they saw.

The gates were in good repair again, with a sign to one side that declared "PRIVATE PROPERTY." Mukuro couldn't see all the buildings from where they stood, but from what he could see, everything had been cleaned and fixed up.

Gokudera was pacing back and forth in front of the gates, expression a mix of impatience and nerves. His head snapped up when he heard them coming, and he jogged over, avoiding looking anyone in the eyes.

"Um. Here," he mumbled, holding something out.

Mukuro took it, sparing one second to be amused (and a little annoyed) that Gokudera was too abashed to give him a proper greeting in front of the others. He looked down at what he'd received. A set of keys?

Mukuro looked from the keys, to the gates, and then back to Gokudera. "Hayato, what – "

"It's not like you're getting it from the mafia," Gokudera burst out in a rush. "It was a personal favor from the Ninth to the Tenth, and then a personal gift from Tsuna to you – "

"Hayato," Mukuro cut him off evenly, "explain it in a comprehensible manner. From the beginning."

Gokudera squirmed for a minute, scratched the back of his head, and then said, "I thought… since Kokuyo Land was such a dump… I thought you might like it better if it were, y'know, actually livable. So I asked the Tenth about maybe him and me and our friends working together to clean it up a bit, except apparently the Tenth mentioned it to Reborn who mentioned it to the Ninth without saying who it was for so the Ninth bought the land and arranged to have it fixed up and then gave it to the Tenth. When we found out that's what was going to happen the Tenth, the baseball freak and I came in and looked for anything personal and boxed it up and kept it at my place until the work was done, then brought it back over this morning," Gokudera added quickly. "So no one from the mafia saw or touched any of your things."

"…I see," Mukuro said at last, trying to hide how dumbfounded he was. There was more he wanted to say on the matter, but not in front of the others. "Would you mind giving us a tour, then, Hayato?" he asked mildly instead.

Gokudera relaxed, looking relieved. Obviously a gift such as this could easily have gone terribly wrong, if Mukuro had been angry about his lodgings being disturbed.

He would have been, too, except Gokudera seemed to have taken into consideration everything Mukuro may have had an issue with and found a solution. Which was quite impressive in and of itself.

Not to mention cute, sweet, and considerate.

Gokudera led them around the restored Kokuyo Land. Fran instantly took off to explore so Mukuro sent Ken and Chikusa with him. M.M. got distracted by the bathhouse, which Mukuro was fairly sure used to be the abandoned zoo. Chrome stayed by Mukuro's side, though she looked around wide-eyed at everything they passed.

All the crumbling buildings had been fixed and repainted, the weeds uprooted and the debris removed. When they reached the main building Mukuro and the others usually resided in, Gokudera brought them inside and showed them where a proper kitchen and laundry room had been installed. On the second floor there were bedrooms with actual beds and dressers and closets.

Then they reached the theater on the third floor where Mukuro had had his first confrontation with the Vongola.

As with everything else, the room was neat and clean and in good repair. The boxes which presumably held the Kokuyo gang's personal items were stacked against the wall, and in the middle of the room was a piano.

"I don't know who decided to bring that here," Gokudera said defensively, shoving his hands in his pockets. "It wasn't me."

"Mmhm." Mukuro turned to smile at Chrome. "Chrome, would you mind gathering up the others and going shopping? It seems as if we have a kitchen to fill."

Chrome nodded, darted a shy smile at Gokudera, and then left.

The moment they were alone, Gokudera went beet red and mumbled, "So, um, yeah… welcome back."

"What kind of greeting is that?" Mukuro asked, amused, before drawing Gokudera close and kissing him.

Gokudera's arms immediately wrapped around Mukuro's neck and he pressed closer into the embrace, and continued to hold on tight even when Mukuro pulled back from the kiss.

"What is all this, Hayato?" Mukuro murmured. "Why go to so much trouble?"

Gokudera squirmed, red-cheeked and avoiding Mukuro's eyes. "I guess, I just… I thought that if this was actually a nice place to live, you'd want to stick around longer, and more often," he said, starting off in an awkward rush and ending in a shy mumble.

Mukuro's eyes widened a little, and then he laughed.

Gokudera shot him an indignant look. "Don't laugh at me!" he sputtered, and tried to wrench away, but Mukuro's arms clamped around Gokudera's waist and kept him from budging.

"You really are too cute, Hayato," Mukuro said, smiling warmly.

"Stop calling me cute!" Gokudera snapped.

"I refuse," Mukuro said cheerfully. "And I wasn't laughing at you. I was laughing because our surprises for one another meshed so perfectly."

Gokudera stopped struggling, and looked at Mukuro with confusion. "Huh?"

"My surprise for you," Mukuro murmured, nuzzling at Gokudera's temple, "is that I intend for myself and the others to stick around for a while."

Gokudera's eyes widened, and then he quickly looked away, clearly not wanting Mukuro to see the happiness and hope shining there. "Uh, how long is… a while?"

"I don't want to set anything in stone as it's possible things won't play out as I think they will," Mukuro said carefully, "but I expect about a year. Maybe two." Potentially even three, but for Mukuro that was a worst-case scenario of things not advancing quickly enough.

Gokudera went still. His fingers clenched in Mukuro's shirt. "Why?" he asked at last. "What are you planning, you bastard?"

Mukuro smiled. "It's a secret."

The reports he'd seen on Gokudera's desk in the future had indicated that they had been at war with the mafia world. The future Gokudera's blank look at the mention of the Vongola, followed by an assurance that he was speaking on behalf of Tsuna and their friends, meant that it was a personal war not affiliated with the Vongola – which had made one of the reports, which seemed to refer to a confrontation with the Vongola itself, make sense.

Something happened to turn Tsuna against the mafia for good. A long time before the future Mukuro had seen, or else the future Gokudera would have understood Mukuro's reference to the Vongola without having to think about it.

His tasks for the others while he'd been stuck in Namimori had largely been gathering intel, which, after seeing the future, he'd asked them to focus specifically on signs of something changing.

Then he'd spoken with Verde, who'd told him that he'd done testing on himself, Mammon, and Skull that indicated the curse energy hadn't immediately disappeared upon the curse being lifted, but was instead dissipating slowly, and the Arcobaleno would age as it lifted – which should take about a year. The reason Lal had immediately reverted was because she'd had less curse energy in the first place.

Which meant in a year – two at most, according to Verde – the Arcobaleno would be back to their true forms. That was a possible catalyst, and while in Italy, Mukuro had sown some seeds that would make it more likely to be so.

In addition to that, he'd spoken with Yuni and Byakuran, and though he'd been careful about not telling them too much, he was confident that they would side with Tsuna if Tsuna chose to destroy the mafia world himself.

He hadn't spoken with the Varia, but he'd acquired a few new vessels amongst their ranks with which to keep an eye on them. The Varia could go either way if a war broke out between Tsuna and the mafia world, depending on the reason, the state of the Vongola at the time, and their own personal whims, so Mukuro meant to keep a close eye on them. Discreetly.

He didn't need to speak with Dino to know that he would support Tsuna in such a conflict. Dissolving the Cavallone wouldn't hurt him too badly, as most of his subordinates would choose to follow him regardless.

The Shimon and CEDEF would back Tsuna due to their personal ties with him. So would most, if not all, of the Arcobaleno, for one reason or another.

The most powerful people in the mafia world, all banding together to destroy it. That would be _beautiful._

If Tsuna were going to seek to destroy the mafia world of his own volition, Mukuro wanted to be nearby to encourage him down that path. And allowing time for bonds to form and strengthen between the Kokuyo gang and Tsuna's guardians would tie Tsuna's interests more tightly to Mukuro's own.

So until the catalyst occurred – and Mukuro did intend to hasten it along as he could, but he was willing to bide his time as well – Mukuro and the others would be staying in Namimori.

Which meant staying near Gokudera. That was much more of a perk than Mukuro wanted to admit, and he would _never _admit that it may have been a deciding factor while he was putting his plan together. Certainly not to his followers, anyway, whom had for the most part otherwise been informed of what he intended to do and why.

Gokudera was silent for a few minutes, and then he said, "Fine. I won't ask what you're up to. But… you don't have an… ulterior motive for, uh, for… you know, spending time with me, right?"

Mukuro just looked at him.

Gokudera grimaced, then leaned his forehead against Mukuro's shoulder. "Sorry," he muttered. "I know you don't. I guess I'm just…"

"Worried?" Mukuro slipped a finger under Gokudera's chin to tilt his head up until their eyes met. "I'll promise you this much, Hayato. I will never lie to you about how I feel about you, what I want from you, or anything to do with our relationship with one another. Do you believe me?"

"Yeah," Gokudera replied without hesitation, the tension draining out of him. His eyes had become much like his future self's, Mukuro realized all of a sudden.

_I care about you. I trust you._

_And I always will._

Who could have ever known that such a complete and utter defeat would have felt like the brightest victory?

"Good," Mukuro said softly. Then, he smiled. "I like you, Hayato. Will you go out with me?"

Gokudera's eyes flew wide and his jaw dropped, his blush flaring out and deepening until his entire face was bright red. Mukuro watched with warmth and amusement as his expression went from stunned to shy to genuinely happy.

"…I like you too," Gokudera said at last, smiling back. "So… yeah."

"Excellent," Mukuro purred, and kissed him.

Mukuro still hated the mafia more than he liked anyone or anything. But Gokudera was aware of that, and had chosen to accept him regardless. If everything worked out the way Mukuro hoped, it would never matter.

If the mafia were destroyed – if they all destroyed it together – Mukuro would be free of his hatred for it, and thus free to return Gokudera's feelings without any reservations whatsoever. He would explain his plan to Gokudera one day, and he was confident that Gokudera would understand.

Everything was set to work out to their mutual benefit.

* * *

End A/Ns: The End~

I know some of you guys were saying you didn't want this to end, and that means so much to me, really. Thank you so much for liking my fic. =^_^=

But I knew when I set out to write this that it wasn't going to drag on, and I did have this as a clear end goal from the start. (Even if it did end up longer than I thought it would be whoops lol.)

Hopefully I've left it clear enough what track events are likely to proceed on. ;) Whether that's a happy ending or not, I'll leave it up to you to decide. If this were a video game, this would be Mukuro's "good ending," though. 8D

For the curious: the original future Mukuro visited was kind of a "neutral ending," in which things could have gone better but had not completely fallen apart either. In other words, Future!Gokudera and Future!Mukuro were not in a relationship, but still cared about each other and had been working to patch things up between them recently as they both regretted allowing things to fall apart ten years previously (due to Gokudera not knowing what he wanted and Mukuro not trusting him and lying about his feelings and both of them pushing each other away because commitments and vulnerability are scary). After meeting each other's past selves, they reminisced, decided to try again, and Tsuna walked in on them fucking on the desk and was Not Amused but didn't give them too much of a hard a time about it because he was glad they finally worked things out honestly it took them long enough goddamn. Mukuro asks whether Reborn owes Tsuna money or if it's the other way around and Tsuna refuses to answer. And that's how that went.

Thank you so much to everyone who read this all the way through, and an extra dose of love and thank yous to the people who reviewed, +favorited, and +alerted it. Especially everyone who said they didn't ship/didn't like/or even hated this pairing but really liked my fic anyway or even started shipping it as a result because FFFF OMFG YOU GUYS ARE TOO NICE. =O_O=

So, uh, yeah, that's it. Thank you all again, and I hope you enjoyed it! :D

(Chapter revised 7/9/13)

Revision A/Ns: So yeah, everything is finally polished all sparkly clean! If you actually took the trouble to reread, thank you so much! *3*


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